


Vignettes à la Carte

by DreamerOfTheMist



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Developing Relationship, Epilogue, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hints at future relationship, Love Confessions, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Post-High School, Post-Reveal Love Square, Pre-Relationship, Secret Relationship, Slice of Life, So many AUs, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trope-indulgent, love square, oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamerOfTheMist/pseuds/DreamerOfTheMist
Summary: “Fate is a crazy thing,” he breathed, tone soft in wonderment.“I wonder how it all works. The matters of the universe, I mean.It’s almost like it was all meant to be ... What are the odds?”a collection of unconnected AU one-shots ["vignettes"].| Ladynoir. | Adrienette. | Alternate Universe Series. |





	1. Three-Hour Lecture

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Hello all! Here's the list of all the oneshots, each including a mini summary:
> 
> 1\. Three-Hour Lecture: A post-reveal pre-relationship university AU. [Adrienette & Ladynoir]  
> 2\. We're A Yin-Yang: A love confession fic from Ladybug's point of view. [Ladynoir]  
> 3\. Starless Wish: A different love confession fic from Chat's point of view. [Ladynoir]  
> 4\. In The Rain: A nostalgic high school graduation/Best Friends AU. [Adrienette]  
> 5\. You're A Keeper: A pre-reveal secret-dating AU chock full of humor. [Adrienette & Ladynoir]  
> 6\. For You, Anything: An identity-reveal pre-relationship unplanned pregnancy AU with angst and fluff. [Ladynoir & Adrienette]  
> 7\. Meant To Be: A TV show co-stars AU. Fluffy epilogue to my story "Reality Check". [Adrienette]  
> 8\. Conclusion: A friendship-centric fic involving two very flirty superheroes, the Ladyblog, and a math study session. [Ladynoir]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: The main reason I've decided to bump this fic up to Mature is due to the occasional language in this first one-shot. The remainder of the chapters are much milder in content. It's not *really* a Mature fic. More Teen than anything, but you can never be too careful, yeah?
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

_Bzzt!_

Adrien jerked his head up from its leaned rest against his palm, then down with a start, to confirm that his phone had indeed vibrated in his lap.

Thankfully, the professor hadn’t noticed.

Fashion History was _not_ one of his particular interests, but if he wanted to keep Father at bay well enough to be permitted at least _some_ freedom in his college years, then a certain number of credits were required to collect towards a minor in Design and Merchandising.

It was an unfortunate deal, but a deal nonetheless.

With a swipe of a thumb, he unlocked the screen to find that Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been the reason for the buzz.

Immediately, he felt his ears burn.

_Ladybug._

His eyes scanned the message hurriedly.

Then again, slowly.

Then yet again, a third time.

It read as follows:

**Marinette: If Wednesday night patrols are lasting too late, we can start scheduling them earlier.**

He blinked.

Professor What’s-His-Name was still droning tirelessly up at the front about the societal impacts of holographic jackets, everyone was studiously typing up notes on their laptops and tablets, and _Ladybug had just implied that she was Ladybug._ Over a _text_ message.

It had been a wild two months ever since their dual blunder of an accidental reveal. He’d found out, she’d found out, and then they’d returned to their university classes the next hour as if nothing had happened. They’d proceeded to continue to act as if nothing had happened - to a _stupidly_ ridiculous degree. At Nino’s and Alya’s weekend get-togethers in the couple’s downtown third-floor unit. At chance encounters around campus. At akuma attacks across the arrondissements of Paris. At the one class they shared - Fashion History - in which she sat two rows behind him. At fucking _patrols._

Now, here she was, referring to their midnight moonlighting métiers as if they hadn’t both been tiptoeing around the subject for weeks upon weeks on end.

_Bzzt!_

His knee slammed up against the underside of the desk.

Several people turned their heads around to shoot glances at him, and he swallowed and blushed furiously down at his lap again.

**Marinette: You’ve been nodding off for the past half hour. And this is a three-hour lecture. I feel bad.**

Adrien’s mind swam.

She’d been watching him?

She felt bad about him being tired?

She wanted to try to _fix_ it?

_Bzzt!_

In disbelief, he hunched his shoulders and hovered over the newest message that had popped up down at the bottom of the screen.

**Marinette: Sorry! Didn’t mean for you to bang your knee! Honestly idk why I’m texting you in class, you’re obviously tired and probably trying to focus. I’m sorry!**

The professor was going to notice if he kept his attention down on his thighs for the remainder of the period.

And so Adrien clicked off his phone, shoved it into his pocket, opened a new tab on his already-running academic laptop, pulled up Facebook, and muted the volume.

With the awareness that Marinette could see what he was doing, as well as his pulse in his ears, he searched up her name and clicked on the message box option.

He deliberated for far too long (possibly thirty seconds) on what to write, before finally biting the bullet (and his lip).

He only backspaced to correct lettering errors. She could _see_ what he was doing.

**Adrien: No need to apologize, my Lady. It’s not your fault! I had to submit a physics paper a couple days earlier than expected, so I was up all night anyway. Patrols are fine! Not your fault.**

The message had only been delivered for a single heart-stopping moment when he saw that she was _responding._

His eyes darted desperately between the front of the classroom and his computer screen endlessly as he waited, sweaty-handed and anxious, for her reply to his very obvious crediting of who exactly she was to him.

_‘My Lady.’_

There was no going back to the tiptoes and the undertones now.

She’d mentioned their patrols, he’d mentioned her superhero nickname.

They were being _open_ about it.

Somehow, he felt both relief and terror over this development.

But there was no extra time to dwell, because she’d replied. Multiple times.

**Marinette: Chat.**

**Marinette: You looked so tired when you walked in.**

**Marinette: Like,**

**Marinette: Your body language just screams “tired”.**

**Marinette: Next time you have a paper due on a patrol night, let me know, and we’ll reschedule.**

The entirety of Adrien’s being warmed deeply to the core from her opener.

Chat.

She’d called him _Chat._

The rest of what she’d followed up with, all of which he drank up hungrily, stated quite transparently that she _was_ watching him, and that she _did_ want to fix what she thought was a problem.

She _cared._

His fingers twitched at the keyboard - before flying.

**Adrien: And miss out on Paris-protecting time with you? Nonsense! Patrols are fine. :)**

Once again, the thought bubble beside her name appeared almost instantly, and he had to duck his head to hide his smile as Professor What’s-His-Name turned his attention to their side of the room to address his third-or-fourth-or-umpteenth point on the controversy of the diaphanous features of sheer material.

**Marinette: Why are you always being a hazard to your own health?**

**Marinette: You’re a college student, Kitten.**

**Marinette: You need your rest. I can pick up more solo patrols.**

Adrien straightened.

His back cracked as a result.

So she was willingly using _every_ nickname. Even the affectionate ones.

**Adrien: Being a college student means that there ISN’T enough rest. You know this, Bug. :) You don’t need to worry, and you definitely don’t need to do solo patrols. I’ll take a nap after this lecture. Cat’s honor.**

**Marinette: But don’t you have a Mathematics class after this lecture?**

His eyebrows crawled up in surprise.

**Adrien: You know my Thursday morning schedule?**

The thought bubble by her name popped up, then disappeared, then reappeared, then disappeared again.

He hesitated, before thinking rather dramatically, _Fuck it,_ and double-messaged.

**Adrien: Marinette??**

She responded.

**Marinette: Omg I’m so sorry. I know that seems so creepy.**

**Marinette: I swear it’s not what it looks like.**

**Marinette: Like, it’s not for weird nefarious purposes… or anything.**

**Marinette: Oh my god I just managed to sound creepier...**

**Marinette: Look… I keep tabs on you, okay? You’re my partner, and I figured it would be good to know which part of campus you’re coming from if Hawkmoth interrupts at any given point with akuma.**

He inhaled deeply, silently.

It took even more deliberation, and much more than a little push-back against the nerves rising in his chest, but he bit another, bigger bullet.

**Adrien: Marinette. Are we gonna talk about this?**

**Marinette: About... this?**

**Adrien: About the fact that we know each other’s identities.**

**Marinette: Oh.**

**Marinette: THAT.**

**Marinette: Hahaha… I mean… what is there to talk about?**

Adrien couldn’t help himself.

He swiveled around in his seat to give her an absolutely incredulous expression.

She froze with her hands above her keyboard, eyes wide as all get-out and pointed right back at him.

He took in her hairstyle, her striped sweater, her light pink collar poking out above it, her flushed cheeks-

_“Ahem.”_

Professor What’s-His-Damn-Name jerked his attention back to the front of the room.

He sighed internally, fixed his posture reluctantly, and stared blankly at the walking-talking-gesturing teacher (going monotonously _on_ about the twenty-first century comeback of suede fringe) for what must have been a solid minute or so before he finally allowed his hand to slowly drift back toward the keyboard.

His eyes travelled there secondly.

What he was met with was an utter _onslaught_ of ignored messages.

He had to scroll up with the mousepad to even see where it all began.

**Marinette: I am so stupid.**

**Marinette: Gosh, I’m sorry Adrien.**

**Marinette: At first I was freaked out that it was you!**

**Marinette: I mean, that you were you.**

**Marinette: But then I realized just how LUCKY I was,**

**Marinette: that one of my good friends was also one of my best friends???**

**Marinette: Like, haha, I don’t even think I’m making sense right now**

**Marinette: But whatever!**

**Marinette: So… this is me talking about this.**

**Marinette: It makes total sense that you are… well, YOU, even if it doesn’t sometimes, and the reason I hadn’t addressed it up until this point was because it’s hard to wrap my head around still, but I felt like I was being rude for NOT addressing it, especially since you were asleep on your hand and I felt like it was my fault, and I’m really really really glad it’s you Chat, I’m glad it’s you. But I know for a FACT that you have a math class after this period and I’m not gonna let you pretend you’re gonna take a nap. From now on, Wednesday nights are my solo patrol nights. Okay??**

Adrien nearly lurched forward at his laptop to reply.

**Adrien: Marinette, I’m SO glad it’s you too!!**

**Adrien: You are definitely my best friend too**

**Adrien: I was shocked too, but so so so relieved at the same time**

**Adrien: And GOD no, you are NOT doing solo patrols Bug. Over my dead body.**

**Adrien: We’re a team!**

**Marinette: But Chat**

**Adrien: We’re a team and we’re gonna stay a team even when I’m tired**

**Marinette: You’re EXHAUSTED, don’t think i haven’t noticed lately**

**Adrien: Ladybug**

**Marinette: You literally look like murder every Thursday morning at the start of this class and I am just,,,**

**Adrien: God I’m so glad it’s you**

**Marinette: Just TIRED of making you tired! I keep you up too much!**

**Adrien: Stop :) It’s okay :)**

**Adrien: You can keep me up all you want Bugaboo :)**

**Marinette: *facepalm***

**Marinette: You are exasperating.**

**Adrien: You are wonderful**

**Adrien: You are wonderful and I’m so thankful you’re you**

**Marinette: You truly are?**

He was beaming at nothing in particular and everything at once.

Just _beaming._

Everything felt warm. Everything.

His face, his neck, his chest, his fluttery stomach-

**Adrien: I truly am. :)**

**Adrien: Marinette, I can’t believe we’re finally talking about this!**

**Marinette: Me neither, tbh**

**Adrien: Like… PINCH ME!**

**Marinette: Haha**

**Marinette: silly kitty**

**Adrien: Oh my god Ladybug we’re superheroes**

**Marinette: Um**

**Marinette: yes haha**

**Adrien: We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir. Wanna TALK about that??? For the rest of the lecture?????**

**Marinette: Haha.. what do you mean??**

**Adrien: What do you mean what do I mean? We’re HEROES and we’re also CLASSMATES. We’ve been classmates since middle school!**

**Marinette: yeah, I was thinking about that the other day. It’s so crazy**

**Adrien: AND heroes!! since middle school!!!**

**Marinette: I know**

**Adrien: God my head is spinning**

**Adrien: It’s been spinning for two months**

**Adrien: Idk if it’ll ever stop spinning**

**Marinette: Mine too**

**Marinette: Like**

**Marinette: Every time I think I’m getting used to it all, I’ll see you while out and about and my mind is blown all. over. again.**

**Adrien: It was so weird doing patrols with you and hanging out at Nino & Alya’s without ever talking about it.**

**Adrien: Granted we CAN’T at nino and alya’s, but**

**Marinette: no no I know exactly what you mean**

**Marinette: like wtf you’re Chat Noir and you’re sitting across from me at my best friends’ coffee table eating three slices of pizza**

**Marinette: hahahaha like I said, my mind is constantly blown**

**Adrien: you counted how many slices I ate?**

**Adrien: ...gee Ladybug :)**

**Adrien: those tabs you keep**

**Marinette: ...shut up**

**Adrien: sure are imperative**

**Marinette: shut UP**

**Adrien: to the mission of defeating Hawkmoth**

**Marinette: I WAS JUST MAKING SURE YOU’RE NOT BINGING WITH YOUR DIET LIKE SOME MODELS DO**

**Adrien: My Lady cares so much!!! I swoon! :D**

**Marinette: I’m logging off**

**Adrien: No! Lol Marinette!! Stay!**

The messaging box informed him that she’d logged off.

A loud snort was punched out of his throat.

Professor Fuck-If-He-Knew paused his presentation to turn sharply and  _glower_ at Adrien.

And at the very next possible second, a thunderous crash, followed by dozens of screams, echoed beyond the windows.

_“Akuma!”_ several students cried.

The scene of the room immediately devolved into chaos, and Adrien had no more than a few seconds of registering this before he was tugged halfway out of his seat-

-by Marinette.

“C’mon, Kitty,” she whispered with a _fierce_ tenderness in her eyes, accosting him and confirming their new amazing development with all the readiness he knew they both finally felt. “We’ve got somewhere to be, dontcha say?”

He grinned.

He rose.

And he allowed her to pull him out of the classroom, down the hall, down the stairs.

Another crash was heard, more screams pierced the air, and they ran faster, and he grinned harder.

Sleep-deprived or not, regardless of how she’d protested,

They were a team.

A _team._

He’d properly convince her against solo patrols later.

He’d find some reasonable excuse to start up another messaging box on Facebook with her in their next Fashion History class even later than that.

He’d figure out how in the world to casually ask her out to coffee somewhere sometime amidst all those plans.

But for now?

He and his partner had transformations to complete and an akuma to defeat.

Relishing in the feeling, he ran faster.

\-----


	2. We're A Yin-Yang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because that’s what we are, Chat. We’re a yin-yang. We balance each other out with our powers, our personalities, our everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So as it turns out, I thrive best when I write pure unadulterated fluff. So here's something sweet for all your sappy cravings. :)
> 
> [As for everyone who's showing up here for the first time from my @chelpixelart account on Instagram - welcome! Thanks for stopping by. Fix yourself a nice hot cup, pull up a chair, and enjoy your stay.]

Marinette surveyed the pastries in the display case carefully.

 _Should I pick the brioche?_ She wondered helplessly. _The danish? Is he more of a muffin guy or would he prefer the cinnamon rolls?_

Her mother laughed from behind the counter, as if hearing her thoughts. “For goodness’ sake, Marinette, just take a few croissants and call it a day.”

Marinette shot up to frown at her mother, shifting the basket on her arm. “But _Maman,_ croissants are so simple. I don’t want to just give my friend the go-to snack of any bakery. I want to give him something _special.”_

“What’s this I hear about our croissants being ‘simple’ and not ‘special’?” Her father boomed as he entered from the back of the kitchen. He smiled affectionately at his daughter. “Are the sweets getting old to you, my sweet?”

“No Papa, I promise they’re not.” The girl sighed. “It’s just… I’m surprising my friend tonight with gifts, and I’d prefer to get him things that aren’t… standard.”

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a ‘he’, is it? In that case, grab one of each pastry that you’re considering. One croissant as well. Trust me on this.” He turned to head back into the kitchen. “Oh, and Marinette?”

“Yes, Papa?”

“He’d be a fool not to return your affections.”

A grateful smile broke out across her face at the realization that even without properly knowing what was going, her father always knew _her,_ at the very least. “Thank you Papa, I love you.”

Her mother eyed her curiously.

“How old is he, Marinette?”

Marinette thought quickly. She truthfully did not _know_ Chat’s age, but she was certain he was around her age. He considered himself a boy, not a man; but he responded to the phrase “young man” when addressed by reporters, so he _must_ be a teenager. He was taller than her, but he talked and acted and behaved like her equal - like her peer.

“He’s my age,” she decided aloud.

The woman nodded in approval. “That’s good. Don’t be out too late tonight, sweetheart.”

\----

Transformed, suited up, and hair down, with her basket of breads and sweets on her left arm and a neatly wrapped present in the right, she began making her way from building to building to get to their typical patrol meet-up spot.

Amidst the leaps and bounds, she offered words of encouragement to herself.

_You can do this._

_He feels the same way for you; you already know that._

_He’s your partner and your best friend. There’s no need to be nervous._

Yet, when she drew nearer to their agreed rooftop, and saw the back of his figure, all her thoughts turned into streams of loud incoherent internal babble.

He was already waiting there for her. Now she’d have no time to psych herself out or prepare - whichever option was the most logical currently escaped her knowledge.

Chat Noir heard her as she landed and turned around, smiling.

Her mind wordlessly _shrieked._

“Evening, my Lady.” He gave her a casual little bow, but she caught the way his sharp green eyes traveled down to her arms as he straightened back up. “Is… today your birthday?”

“No,” she said quickly, and watched the way he tilted his head, openly wondering.

“Then… what are those?”

She took a deep breath.

She’d stalled from doing this for months now.

She’d daydreamed about this during every class, every study session, and even every test.

She’d spent countless sleepless nights _agonizing_ over this.

It was time. It was time to tell him the truth.

_But first-_

“How old are you, Chat?”

He blinked in surprise - no doubt that was what he was feeling. She never asked him personal questions. She knew this.

“I’m eighteen,” he said, looking confused. “A-and… what about… you?” The way he delivered the question made it sound less like he was curious about her age and more like he was asking why and how they were suddenly discussing such a topic.

Relieved that they were in fact the same age, she steeled herself for what she was about to do.

She took six steps forward across the rooftop until she was standing right in front of him.

“I’m eighteen too,” she remembered to reply as she looked up at his gaping expression. “As for these…” She glanced down at her gift and her basket, suddenly worried and self-conscious and wildly anxious, but it was _far too late_ to back out now, and so she continued. “...These are for you.”

He stared at her, a series of different unrecognizable emotions surfacing and disappearing from his expression in an instant, and then he whispered, “Is it… is it _my_ birthday?”

This made her bark out a laugh, despite how unnerved she was. “Shouldn’t you, uh, know the answer to that question?”

He laughed too, in what seemed to be disbelief. “You got me things? What for?”

She inhaled deeply.

It was now or never.

“I need to admit something to you.”

He was suddenly so still, so unmoving; she couldn’t even tell that he was breathing.

Her mouth open, but with no words coming out, she pulled herself together and _forced_ herself to speak. “I don’t know exactly how to say this-” She giggled nervously, to her horror. _Ladybug. Get. It. Together._ “So I’m just gonna go ahead and say it.” She cleared her throat. “I… well, you see… I, uh… back when we first… I didn’t exactly… but, I mean, _now,_ I… um, I mean…”

Staring at Chat Noir’s baffled expression, and hearing herself stammer into oblivion, and feeling sweaty and uncomfortable and completely frustrated, she thought for a moment about all the different ways _he’d_ told _her_ over the years.

He’d always been bold.

He’d offered her flowers, he’d lit candles, he’d taken her into his _arms_ to profess his love for her. Regardless that she rejected him, every single time.

Summoning up her courage and wincing simultaneously at this thought, she closed her eyes.

She didn’t have flowers at the moment, nor candles, and she couldn’t hug him while holding the presents, but she could channel his bravery for a moment, and try to do this correctly.

The way he deserved.

“Ladybug?”

She opened her eyes, and the words were blurted out in one swift, decisive motion.

“I’m in love with you.”

He froze, she froze, and then, as it settled in that she’d actually done it, she took the opportunity to desperately tack _“And I understand if it’s too late and you’ve moved on and you’re no longer interested but it’s the truth and I thought you ought to know but if you don’t feel the same way then no worries!”_ onto her confession.

There was dead silence between them.

Then,

“Here,” she choked out, extending her gifts. “You totally don’t have to say anything, I understand, but please take these. They’re for you.”

Chat looked down at the basket, then at the present, then back up at her face. His eyes were wide and wild and unreadable.

Her arms were starting to hurt, as was her heart, but she kept both outstretched.

Slowly, silently, he reached forward.

She held her breath.

He took the basket, then lowered it to the floor.

She was confused as he did the same with her other package, but suddenly, he closed in on her.

Unblinking, he wrapped himself around her in an embrace tighter than they’d ever shared, and as she saw stars, she heard him whisper shakily into her ear, “You’re serious?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “I’m serious,” she breathed, unable to say much else.

He pulled back, just enough to gape at her. “What happened to the… the boy? The one you were in love with all this time?”

She looked up at him earnestly. “I lost interest in him a long time ago.”

It was absolutely true. She had. It hadn’t happened overnight; her puppy crush on Adrien Agreste had been a huge part of her life, after all, but little by little, as Akuma attacks and patrol shifts had become more frequent, so did Chat Noir’s presence in her mind. Then slowly, ever so subtly, her thoughts of him wandered by tiptoe into her heart, until it occurred to her one day, after a fistbump and a departure, that she wished she could spend more time with the boy in the black leather suit. Then, once she’d realized that, those subtle little tiptoed thoughts turned into loud, fluttery steps that danced around on her heart in a way that couldn’t be rivaled by _any_ feelings she’d had for anyone else in the past. In short, she fell _hard_ for Chat Noir. Every join-up afterward became a treasured time for her; every Akuma-necessitated reunion had her experiencing an extremely _different_ onslaught of butterflies; every patrol shift brought on a million warm and fuzzy feelings as they teased and bantered their way through the nights.

“You’re serious?” he repeated, jolting her. His arms were still tightly wound around her. His eyes were uncharacteristically deep, hopeful, frightened. The sight made her press her hands more firmly against his back.

“I’m serious,” she confirmed.

And just like that, with no warning, no waiting, no deliberating, his lips had pressed onto hers.

Her eyes closed on their own accord and she pushed forward to return the action, to give him the final affirmation, to seal the deal.

He was warm. Trembling. Tense.

As soon as she was aware of these things, and as quickly as he’d begun the kiss, he broke it, leaving her to breathe heavily and stare up at him as he tried to recoil.

“I’m sorry-” he began, almost as if by instinct. He looked alarmed.

She shook her head, hard. Her grip on his back tightened, keeping him in place.

 _“Why?_ Why are you sorry?”

“I-” Confusion clouded his eyes as they danced on hers. “I…” His shoulders slumped. “Am I dreaming again?”

“No!” She shook her head more, the word _again_ not lost on her. “You’re not! I promise! _Look-”_ She dipped her head into his ducked posture to recapture his lips, and this time, she made sure they held out the action for five good seconds before they parted; when her eyes reopened, he had noticeably reddened, and she felt all sort of tingles as she resumed, “See? You or I would have woken up by now if this was one of our dreams.”

“One of _our_ dreams?” He repeated, dazed. “You… _dream_ about me?”

His query left her momentarily speechless.

He really couldn’t believe that she was capable of returning his affections.

The realization was a blow to her entire being. _She’d_ convinced him she couldn’t return his affections. No wonder he was insecure. No wonder he was struggling with denial.

“Chat…” She grasped desperately for the right words, then finally settled on the one phrase that could hopefully cover it. “I’m so _sorry._ I’ve rejected you for years, because- because I- a-and I’m so, so, so, _so_ sorry, I- words cannot describe the guilt I feel right now, but-” She raised her masked eyebrows in sincerity up into his searching expression, and suddenly she wasn’t stumbling over what to say anymore. “-if you can find it within yourself to forgive me, and to start over with me, I’ll make it right. I’ll make _everything_ right. If you want me, the way I want you. Do… you?” She bit her lip. “I mean, would you like to… to be in a relationship maybe? With… me?”

For a solid seven seconds, he stared at her, and she could hear her heart thrumming painfully in her ears.

But then she watched, in amazement, as the light came back into this eyes, and as hope began searing its way through her chest, a slow and incredibly _happy_ smile grew on his face, replacing every last inch of his doubtful expression.

And then, all of a sudden, he was shouting, _shouting_ “Yes! Yes! Yes, my Lady, _yes!”,_ and he was lifting her, and he was spinning her, and he was laughing, and then she was laughing, burying her face into the crook of his collared neck with dizziness and delirium.

They finally halted to catch their breaths, but he hadn’t stopped announcing his answer, and she hadn’t stopped smiling.

Chat dropped his continual echoes of _“Yes”_ into soft, fierce whispers as he cradled her face with shaky hands, and she beamed up at him, wanting to laugh again, wanting to _cry,_ wanting to kiss him until she forgot both of her own names.

He beat her to it, drawing in and leaning down. He all but crashed into her.

 _“Yes,”_ he muttered into her mouth, as his gloved hands went to her hair. _“Yes,”_ he whispered again as they roamed to her neck, down her spine, to the small of her back, then to each side of her waist. _“Yes.”_ He breathed unsteadily as she clutched the leather-clad nape of his neck. _“Yes, my Lady, yes.”_ He angled his head to provide her all the access she could possibly have, and one of them - she wasn’t sure who - ran their tongue over their lips, and immediately she was aware of _warm_ and _wet_ and _so much_ yet _not enough._

So when he separated from her with such abruptness that she nearly suffered whiplash, she felt instant panic that he was about to spiral back into a bizarre state of fresh denial, but that feeling thankfully fled as soon as he gestured to her presents.

Ah.

_Right._

Her presents.

“I almost forgot about these,” he said breathlessly. “...May I?”

Trying to catch her own breath, she could only nod.

Chat got down on his knees in front of the basket first, and an extra layer of heat was added to her blush as she watched him lift the lid and stare at its contents. He whipped his head up to look at her in awe.

“Oh my word,” he said softly. “You bought me _sweets?”_

She twisted the ends of her hair. “...Do you like those? I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got a little bit of everything.”

He laughed in utter disbelief. “These are all my favorites. How did you _know?”_

She laughed too, relieved. “Let’s just say I know a couple good bakers who have good instincts.”

He closed the lid. “I’m saving these for later. Thank you so _much.”_

He then turned to the gift-wrapped package tied neatly together with a bright red bow. Glancing up at her, and looking positively giddy, he confessed, “I don’t get presents much. I can’t believe you got me a present.”

She felt a tiny drop of her happiness drain out at this statement. Over the years, little hints here and there from Chat had painted her the blurry picture that his home life was perhaps less than ideal, but she’d never pried, and he’d never pushed.

She wondered, for a millisecond, if she was _allowed_ to pry now that they were changing the dynamics of their relationship.

But now was not the moment to worry or ponder questions that would surely answer themselves in the very likely future. This moment belonged to Chat’s excitement.

“Go ahead!” She beamed at him. “Open it! Tear it! Rip it apart!”

His eyes wide like a child’s, he grinned down at his gift before doing exactly that.

He was left with a white rectangular box. He lifted the lid, and something dropped out.

He picked it up by its tiny black metal links.

“It’s a-” he held it out for himself. “A…”

“It’s two gifts in one,” she quickly explained. “A ring on a necklace. Let me explain.” She smiled nervously. “Your Miraculous is a ring, so I know how much meaning rings must hold for you. Everytime I look at a pair of earrings, I’m reminded of my responsibility as Ladybug.” She gestured to his gift. “So… I thought about giving you something that could hold meaning for _us._ The ring is black on the outside, which represents several things. First, it reminds me of my spots and your leather. Our superhero identities. The whole reason we know each other. The force that brought us together; made us partners and best friends. Secondly, it’s black to signify the time I was in the dark. Before I realized… well, that I love you.” Her face warmed. “And the inside of the band is white. That represents me seeing the light. And, last but not least, the black and white together stand for the yin-yang. Because that’s what _we_ are, Chat. We’re a yin-yang. We balance each other out with our powers, our personalities, our _everything.”_ She took a deep breath, then remembered the final part of her present. “Oh, and the necklace is there so you can hide the ring under your civilian clothes. You can wear it whenever.”

She glanced back down at him.

He looked completely stunned.

“This is the most…” He swallowed thickly. “The most _meaningful_ gift anyone’s ever given me.” He rose to his feet, wobbly, and with one arm, pulled her into another embrace.

“Thank you,” he hissed into her ear, and she closed her eyes, eternally grateful that this was real. Everything about this was real. He loved her present. He loved _her._

“I love you,” she murmured into his neck.

With his free hand, he squeezed her. His voice broke all over the place when he replied. “I love you too, my Lady.”

These were foreign phrases to say to each other, new and unknown and never done before, but she knew that they would grow into it, and grow familiar with it.

She _knew_ it, and the knowledge alone was exhilarating.

And so, with a thrill coursing through her veins, she reached up to kiss him again.

He loved her, he loved her, _he loved her._

Their patrol shift could definitely wait.

\----


	3. Starless Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But as for sincere hopes and dreams and wishes…
> 
> Where were the stars when he needed them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Two oneshots in one day; each different stories, both quite similar in theme.
> 
> Because I'm a sucker for mutual Ladynoir love confessions.
> 
> Adrien's POV.

He couldn’t pinpoint when things had shifted between them.

For as long as he could remember, Ladybug had kept him at arm’s length; she only reluctantly acknowledged his advances, and she had made it clear to him on multiple occasions that she would never, ever be interested in anything more than the partnership they had.

But gradually, without him even being aware of it, a switch had somehow been flipped.

His first time realizing that an actual change had taken place was during a patrol switch-off around midnight one night. She’d spent several hours keeping watch over Paris, was tired, apparently had a long day ahead of her, and had requested that he take over.

When they’d met upon the rooftop so that she could take her leave, she’d said, “Thank you, Chat Noir. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

In natural fashion, he’d quipped with his typical smirk, “I don’t know what you’d do without me either. Let’s hope we never find out; agreed, my Lady?”

But instead of a quip back or the eyeroll he’d expected, she’d smiled warmly at him, leaned forward, and pulled him in for a hug - too quick to return, too real to have imagined - before taking a step back and saying, “Agreed, my dear Chaton.”

She’d then leaped off the building and disappeared into the distance.

He’d been left standing there in a state of confusion and surprise.

_ “Agreed, my dear Chaton”? _

Slowly a warm smile of his own spread across his features.

Deciding that it had just been a very late night for her, he cherished and repeated her pleasant words to himself for the rest of patrol.

And he would have been content for the remainder of his lifetime if that was the only affection she ever granted him, but he was surprised once more a mere week later, at their next Akuma-attack reunion.

Throughout the battle, they’d bantered, which wasn’t anything new, but the way she blew him a  _ kiss _ from across the street after he utilized his Cataclysm most  _ certainly _ was. He’d been so taken aback that he’d checked behind him to see if some mysterious boyfriend or admirer happened to be around. By the time he turned back around to gape at her, she’d used her Lucky Charm on the akumatized villain and was well underway to purifying the trapped butterfly within its weapon.

When they’d bumped fists, he looked at her curiously, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care to stick around and explain, because in the next instant, after a reporter who’d approached them got his attention, she was gone without a trace.

Nearly three weeks dragged by without an Akuma attack, and he felt himself going crazy.

He stalked Alya’s Ladyblog every chance he got, as well as every other, less popular Ladybug-centric blog out there on the internet. He looked at himself in the full-length mirror in his bedroom and rehearsed romantic lines he could use to woo her upon their next meeting. He mentally went over every nice memory he had of her - countless times. He slept and dreamt of her. He played piano and thought of her. He did his homework and was distracted by his imaginings of her. He completed his photoshoots and wished to be with her instead.

He actually rejoiced when Hawk Moth exploited his next victim.

“Afternoon, my Lady!” he all but exclaimed as he pounced off a ledge and she swooped down from another building.

She turned her head to dart her eyes at him, and  _ there was that wonderful smile again. _

“Hey, Chat.” She pushed her bangs away from her masked eyes. He silently noted that her hair seemed to be growing a little longer. “How’ve you been this past month?”

He balked. She rarely asked him questions like this.

“I-” He jumped with a start as the villain he’d entirely forgotten about roared within the general vicinity from where they stood. “-will satisfy all your little curiosities about my personal life in a bit!”

He could have kicked himself as they advanced upon their target. Why, oh,  _ why _ did he have to be such a hard-boiled egg? She was actually showing care, and effort, to get to  _ know _ him, and here he was acting like he expected it.

He did not expect it, and that was the truth. It was so unexpected and so unbelievable that he was actually putting his guard up, for fear that these past few encounters between them were some weird idea of a practical joke.

But by the time they’d fought - and won - against the insane-looking victim, and all of Paris was put back together, he was determined not to let her slip away again so easily.

“Would you mind if we patrolled the streets together this Saturday evening?” He blurted.

She blinked in surprise, and he braced himself for the rejection that was sure to follow.

“No,” she said calmly. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

He looked back up at her with a start, his eyes wide.

Suddenly he wished he’d asked about Wednesday night. Or Thursday night. Or even Friday night. Not Saturday, which was at the very end of the week.

But the deed was done, an agreement was set, and off Ladybug went.

\----

Saturday night - and a cloudy, starless sky with it - arrived for patrol, as did one nervous Chat Noir.

Tonight was the night.

The night he would try, yet again, to let his Lady know just how much she meant to him.

There were no roses or candles waiting with him. He hadn’t gone overboard this time. Partly because he’d already tried that once and been rejected, but also partly due to the fact that he was afraid to scare her away on the probable chance that she was just being nicer to him lately for no real reason.

After all, she didn’t  _ owe _ him a relationship now just because they were both mutually treating each other with kindness.

Her friendship was all he needed, truly.

But as for sincere hopes and dreams and wishes…

Where were the stars when he needed them?

The swing of a yo-yo, a feminine grunt, and a soft landing upon the rooftop behind him interrupted his thoughts and triggered his quickened heart rate.

He turned around slowly, and there she was.

“My Lady,” he bowed on instinct.

She smirked, amused, with an eyebrow cocked, and took four steps toward him. “My Chat.”

_ My Chat. My Chat. My Chat. _

Was she merely joking along? Or… being  _ serious _ along?

This all depended on him now.

He straightened up and cleared his throat. “Shall we begin our shift?”

“That we shall.” She turned to face the edge of the building.

He looked down at her side, and in a split second in slow motion, he took action.

Sternly ignoring the fact that his heart was in his throat, he closed his gloved hand over hers, very gently, and held his breath.

_ Now was the moment of truth. _

Ladybug looked down at his hand with a start, but then-

-But then her eyes traveled up his arm to his neck to the expression on his face, and without blinking, without smiling, without even breathing, she adjusted her hand and laced their fingers together.

Chat could have fainted.

But that would have been incredibly counterproductive, so instead, he spoke.

“Wait.”

She froze.

Now he had no idea what he ought to say.

His eyes scanned the Parisian horizon in front of them, as if the secrets to the universe of love and requited affection were openly displayed among the buildings and dusty-dark violet-clouded backdrop.

He glanced, very nervously, back down to her hand. She was still holding his. Unwavering.

He looked again at her face. She was staring back at him.

Under her deep, serious, blue-eyed gaze, Chat found himself suddenly very shy.

“I…” He began. “I don’t want to misinterpret you, because I… I respect you.” He swallowed, then did the hardest thing in the world. He forced his hand to let go of hers. “I  _ desire _ to hold your hand, my Lady. I…  _ very much _ desire that. And… much more.” Here he could feel the warmth rise up his cheeks, and he turned away. “But I would never take advantage of your kindness.”

Slightly emboldened by this statement, despite his blush and his nerves and his fears, he continued. “I want to do things properly. So I need to confess. I know you’ve heard it all before, but…” He waited for her to interrupt. She did not. “But you must know again that my love for you will never change. It can only grow, Ladybug. I know I’m Chat Noir to you, but I’m also just a boy in a catsuit at the end of the day. A boy with a heart. And my heart is yours.”

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes crept to meet hers once more. “If you want it, that is. If you want my heart, you can… you can have it. But only if you want it.”

Ladybug stepped closer to his side.

She took his hand again, and his heart thundered.

He blinked several times at her.

She opened her mouth. “Chat… I need to confess something as well.”

He waited breathlessly, wishing for a miracle, preparing for reality.

_ I’ve been leading you on because I’ve been bored. _

_ I’ve been pretending to like you back to make you feel better about yourself. _

_ I’ve only been a friend to you; I don’t understand why you always misconstrue everything. _

“I do want your heart. The same way you want mine.”

Was he dreaming? It hadn’t occurred to him before, but now it seemed highly plausible that this was all one giant nice dream.

“Wh-what do you mean?” The pitch of his voice had gone embarrassingly higher than he’d wanted it to.

“I mean…” Ladybug’s gaze bore into his with such intensity that he was literally afraid. “I mean that I have been overlooking the truth. The truth that… well, you’re so much more to me than just my partner and my best friend. You’re so much more, Chat.”

Here she paused and looked [unfairly adorably] apologetic. “I’m so very sorry for not realizing it sooner, but I know I’m not too late. So, could we try? To… forget the past, and to look forward together?”

A lump was forming, one that was getting increasingly difficult to swallow down.

Chat’s eyes searched hers desperately. He searched for mirth, for a punchline, for a “just kidding”, for a “nevermind”.

He had to confirm the truth one way or another.

So he took his last resort.

“Are you being serious?” It came out as a whisper. A tentative, frightened whisper. Tentative to hear the truth. Frightened to hear a lie.

Had her face always been this close to his face during this conversation?

This was his last proper thought before she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

His eyes widened as much as they possibly could, before they fluttered shut.

He slowly tilted his head.

He tightly gripped her hands.

He kissed her back.

It was all done very cautiously, at first, but then when she closed the remainder of the distance between them by slipping her hands out of his and winding her arms around his neck, some dormant, love-starved part of him awoke with a ferocity he had never known.

And so he wrapped his arms around her body and fiercely drew kisses from her lips, again and again and again.

For her part, she responded in what could only be described as a nearly  _ competitive _ way.

Encouraged, heart going bananas, mind going blank, one of his trembling hands clutched the back of her head.

She eagerly allowed it, and  _ that _ was the moment when it all flew toward him like a rush of feathers. Ladybug loved him. Ladybug wanted him. Ladybug desired him. Ladybug was in his embrace. Ladybug was taking his kisses.  _ Ladybug was taking his kisses. _

He wanted to laugh and cry and sing and scream.

For this reason alone, he did the unthinkable and pulled slightly away from her lips. Arms still locked around her, his eyes on her eyes, he took a few necessary breaths, then spoke.

_ “Wow.” _

She nodded, as if in a daze. “...Wow,” she murmured in agreement.

He barked out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re serious?” His eyes flashed with fear one last time, but the insecurity had very little depth to it now. Confirmed, by the way she adorably cocked her head to the side and looked at him as if he were the most beautiful sight on earth.

“I’m serious,” she breathed.

_ Okay. _

This time, he showed no hesitation.

He crashed into her like a tidal wave.

And he positively drowned himself in her.

Chat supposed - happily, gratefully, just _barely_ there mentally - he hadn’t needed those stars after all.

\----


	4. In The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You belong as much as I do,” he said simply. “Which is to say, not at all. But that’s the point, isn’t it? I just want to make sure I end my public school experience the way I started it. With you right there… right there with me. We began just like this… unsure of ourselves. And by God, if we’re meant to, I’m determined to see us graduate the same way, Marinette. But… only if you are, too.”
> 
> He deliberated, then cocked his head again, and it looked at once like both a comforting gesture and a daring challenge. “So, what do you say? Am I gonna say goodbye to academic hell with you in an auditorium, or am I gonna stand with you for the rest of the night in the rain?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This is an aged-up best friends AU. Pure & sweet Adrienette.
> 
> Enjoy!

There were always unspoken agreements between the two of them that Marinette appreciated.

One of these foregone conclusions, by way of example, was the casual, effortless, _easy_ way they’d stand up for one another if one of them was in danger of getting their feelings hurt. Like on Valentine’s Day three months ago. God, had _that_ been a doozy. She could still recall the fire in her veins and the tingles down her arms and the trembling in her voice when firm hands had held her back before she could pummel Chloe Bourgeois to the ground. And she truly _would’ve_ hurt Chloe that time, considering the fact that the girl had jeered and tossed around _the words_ that she did _(“pathetic”, “loser”,_ and _“orphan”,_ to name a few) at Adrien simply out of spite because he turned her aggressive one-night-stand offer down. But somehow, while her vision was white and her rage was wet and her shaking was uncontrollable, he had still managed to restrain her before she wound up with a suspension (and Chloe, a broken nose).

It was incredible - she mused as she leaned against the balcony railing - the way they had each other’s backs. They way they simply _knew_ their way around each other; the way a single look or off-handed touch could bring one another down to Earth, or back to reality, or safely to shore, or-

“Hey, Cold-Feet. Figured you’d be here.”

-or out of hiding.

Marinette turned slightly, just enough to look over her shoulder, and gave him a suitably guilty glance before turning back to face the Parisian night sky ahead.

She heard his good-natured sigh, and his climbing out of her bedroom window, and his soft footsteps as he joined her side.

She forcibly trained her eyes to remain on the horizon.

Adrien’s smile was evident in his voice when he spoke. “You sure are missing out on one hell of a _long,_ boring, uneventful graduation ceremony right now.”

“And now, so are you.” Marinette inhaled and exhaled shakily, halfway-surprised by how overwhelmed she sounded.

“Which ordinarily wouldn’t matter.” Adrien bumped his hip against hers gently. “But you know, it _is_ kinda, sorta _our_ long, boring, uneventful graduation ceremony tonight…”

She decided to be quiet as a response, which he took as the go-ahead to continue. “Something we’ve worked for our entire Lycée career. Something that we took turns cheating on each other’s homework for, something that we mutually suffered for.”

Still silent, she turned her head away.

He lowered his voice then, to something both tender and reproving. “Something your Maman and Papa came to sit for. Third row from the very front, on the left, and fourth row behind. I saw them. They each took the assigned seats that were meant to represent both your family and mine, you know.”

Marinette turned, then, to look up into his eyes.

“...I’m terrified, Adrien.”

He tilted his head at her, the _pedestal_ example of utmost patience. “Tell me why you are, and I’ll tell you why you shouldn’t be.”

She studied his eyes for a moment - they were sharp green, yet unarguably very _warm_ \- and then relented.

“You already know I missed my chance at that internship with the fashion house.” She hung her head. “I failed the competition. I _ruined_ my future, and it hasn’t even started yet. What do you have to say to _that,_ huh? What could you possibly tell me that’ll make me want to attend a ceremony that isn’t meant for me? An event where I don’t belong _at all?”_

Adrien placed a feathery light hand to her shoulder, and it was effective in getting her to look back up at him.

And there, _right then and there,_ a thunderclap occurred above them, and in front of her… in front of her was that old, kind, undeterred small smile. An exact replica of the one he’d shared to her under an umbrella long, long, long ago.

“You belong as much as I do,” he said simply. “Which is to say, not at all. But that’s the point, isn’t it? I just want to make sure I end my public school experience the way I started it. With you right there… right there with me. We began just like this… unsure of ourselves. And by God, if we’re meant to, I’m _determined_ to see us graduate the same way, Marinette. But… only if _you_ are, too.”

He deliberated, then cocked his head again, and it looked at once like both a comforting gesture and a daring challenge. “So, what do you say? Am I gonna say goodbye to academic hell with you in an auditorium, or am I gonna stand with you for the rest of the night in the rain?”

The first signs of raindrops touched lightly down on their noses as she looked up, and she slowly began to smile.

Adrien’s own smile grew in obvious relief, and he took a deep breath before offering her name in the teasing caricature of the undoubtedly solemn ceremonial introduction she’d nearly missed out on:

“Shall we, then, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?”

She made a show of rolling her eyes and nudging his side with her shoulder, before taking a step forward toward the only exit on the balcony.

“...I guess we shall, Monsieur Agreste.”

\-----


	5. You're A Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course the two of you would team up against the two of us,” Alya smirked, throwing her arm around Nino. “Just date already, for the love of God.”
> 
> Marinette rolled her eyes. “Oh please.”
> 
> Adrien laughed. “My sentiments exactly.”
> 
> “You dudes are unbelievable,” Nino shook his head in amazement. “At the very least hook up once so that I can stop hearing about your supposed ‘chemistry’ from Alya for five minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This was a fun one to write. 
> 
> Aged-up Secretly-Dating AU. Adrienette & Ladynoir.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Marinette hummed to herself, the rest of the world a forgotten blur, as she sauntered and twirled into the library.

Nothing and no one could ruin her mood today. It was _Wednesday._

Ever since Chat had suggested that they block out a time every week to see each other outside of their Paris-protecting commitment, and they’d figured out that they were both readily available Wednesday evenings, she’d looked forward to today.

She was going to have a date with her boyfriend, and all that stood in her way was one final hour of schoolwork in study hall. _One_ hour between her and Chat Noir. Just _one._

“Earth to Marinette…” A hand waved in front of her face, and all at once, she snapped back to attention.

Alya, Nino, and Adrien were chuckling at her.

She grinned at them, too happy to be fazed. “...I was zoning out, wasn’t I?”

“Zoning out is when you’re in another world.” Alya rested her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow. “You, on the other hand, had made it past that world and past several more orbiting within that same solar system and were well on your way to leaving the universe and exploring a new dimension.”

Nino burst out laughing.

Marinette shook her head good-naturedly. “The two of you spend _way_ too much time together. Nino, you’re rubbing off on that girl.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for the past _year!”_ Adrien raised his hands. “Finally someone agrees!”

“Of course the two of _you_ would team up against the two of _us,”_ Alya smirked, throwing her arm around Nino. “Just date already, for the love of God.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Oh please.”

Adrien laughed. “My sentiments exactly.”

“You dudes are unbelievable,” Nino shook his head in amazement. “At the very least hook up _once_ so that I can stop hearing about your supposed ‘chemistry’ from Alya for _five minutes.”_

“Um, ‘supposed’? Excuse me? Like you don’t _see it?”_ Alya gestured to the two in question incredulously.

“Sorry babe,” Nino smiled at her fondly. “I really don’t.”

“It wasn’t enough I had that God-awful crush on you so many years ago.” Marinette waggled her eyebrows at Adrien. “Now I’m doomed to a lifetime of Alya’s ‘unresolved sexual tension’ speeches at inopportune, unwanted moments.”

Adrien threw his head back and chortled. “You’re telling me! Remember that one teacher’s funeral we all had to attend back at the start of Lycee? The one lady who died in her sleep because she was _that_ elderly?”

“Oh yeah!” Marinette’s eyes widened. “You mean the time Alya mourned the death of our nonexistent love?”

Adrien nodded, his eyes squeezed shut from his hysterics. “Yes. That’s the one. Ohhh God. That’s the memory.”

“Will you people _let it go?_ I was fifteen!”

Marinette slowly turned to her in disbelief.

“You were literally _weeping._ When Adrien turned to ask you if you knew the teacher personally, you _shook him by the shoulders_ and told him he was an _oaf_ for letting me be, and I quote, _the one that got away.”_

“Let’s all - _ahHA_ \- let’s all just, _try_ to imagine my shock in that moment for a sec,” Adrien cried, slamming his hand on the studying table repeatedly. “I - _HAHAHA -_ was shaken by the shoulders by a crying Alya at this random funeral for this _random_ teacher and everyone turned around to look at us just as she starts _sobbing_ into my arms, and I’m- I’m- I’m-” Tears began spilling out of his eyes. “-trying to _comfort her,_ might I add _in my confusion,_ and then Nino’s giving me the _death glare-”_

“I WAS FIFTEEN.”

“Literally _all three of you_ put me in all sorts of trouble at that freaking funeral and I just-” Adrien fell to a crouch on the floor and covered his face with his hands, laughing violently.

Marinette looked down at him, then turned to look back up flatly at Alya and Nino. “Congratulations. You broke his brain.”

Adrien fell over on his side and curled up into a sideways fetal position, his shoulders shaking, his face still covered.

She carefully stepped over his body and winked at her friends. “Sorry guys, as much as I’d love to stick around and reminisce on all our finest moments, I’m gonna go study in a quieter corner. I’ve got a literature test this Friday and I lost my notes again.”

“Good luck, girl! You got this!” Alya nodded and gave her a cheerful thumbs-up as Nino bent down to poke Adrien’s body in concern.

Marinette turned away from them, shaking her head and smiling.

\----

“Tell me something else I don’t know about you.”

She gazed at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, then turned back to Chat. “...Okay. I know it’s kind of our job to love Paris, considering we watch over it and take care of it, but I truly, _truly_ adore this city. In my opinion, it’s the best place on Earth.”

He quirked his lips upward and tilted his head questioningly. “We watch over it, we take care of it, we love it… Would you go so far as to agree we’re like parents to this place?”

She cocked her head as well, considering this playfully. “Hmm. Nah. We’re more like the cool young aunt and uncle duo that visit whenever there’s family drama.”

Chat snorted. “That fits the bill pretty well, actually. But in that case, does that make all the Akumatized victims the loud, drunk relatives?”

“And Hawkmoth the grumpy old geezer who started everything with a passive aggressive comment?”

“Yes! And no one even knows how he’s related?”

_“Yes!”_

The two high-fived, laughing.

“Your turn,” she nudged his shoulder with her own after a pause. “Tell me something else I don’t know about you.”

He beamed at her. “Okay. I’m in my last year of Lycee right now.”

She gasped and pointed to herself. “Me too!”

He sat up straighter. “Ladybug… what if we attended the _same school?”_

“Wouldn’t that be wild?” She giggled. “I bet you’re the biggest class clown.”

Chat gently pretended to shove her to the side. “Yeah, and you’re the know-it-all who raises her hand for all the questions.”

She threw her head back. “I am _not._ Trust me on that.”

“Really?”

_“Really.”_

“Alright,” he drew the word out, as if reluctant to give up this ideology of her in his head. Then he caught her eye and winked. “Well, then, if we’re being honest, then believe it or not: I, too, am not what you suspect.”

“Ooh, how mysterious.” She grinned.

“Mysterious _and_ devilishly handsome, thank you very much. Now, tell me something else I don’t know about you.”

“Hey, I don’t disagree.” She tousled his hair, and the surprised smile he rewarded her with for her affection made her decide to keep her hand right where it was. “...Okay. I’ve got a really personal one.”

He leaned into her touch. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She reached up to scratch his ears, once, noting his expression in satisfaction, before bringing her fingers back down to his blonde tufts. “My lifelong dream has always been to become a fashion designer someday.”

His eyes widened and his posture straightened. She withdrew her hand to clasp it with her other one.

“Really?”

She bit her lip, nodding. “Mhmm.”

“But… why? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I love clothes,” she said honestly. “I love playing dress-up, and as a child I really enjoyed playing with dolls. Designing clothes for models to wear is like the grown-up game of dressing up dolls.”

A slow smile spread across his face as he contemplated her statement. “...That’s such a refreshing way of putting it. I never thought of it that way.”

“Thanks,” she smiled back. “Now. _You_ tell me something else _I_ don’t know.”

Chat Noir looked down. “I… I…” He began drawing circles on the rooftop with his finger. “...I feel kinda conflicted about my next fact.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

He turned to look at her, his eyes glum. “Because it ties in with your fact in a really cool way, but it’s not… careful.”

She wasn’t sure she understood. “You mean… is it… attached to your identity in a way that could put us in danger?”

He frowned, seemingly more to himself than at her. “I think so.”

Suddenly, there was a distant sound of a crash, along with several dozen screams.

Sighs emerged from both teenagers.

She rose to her feet first, then offered him a hand. He accepted it, and the two faced the direction of the noise.

“I can’t believe Hawkmoth is interrupting our date _again,”_ he bemoaned. “Dumb ‘family reunions’.”

She couldn’t agree more. “Whaddya say we show that ‘grumpy old geezer’ _exactly_ how we feel about his little mistake?”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “My Lady…” The corner of his lips curled up in a crooked smile as he prepared his body for action. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a little while, but I can already tell… you’re a keeper.”

The two leaped off the rooftop.

\----


	6. For You, Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aged-Up Unplanned Pregnancy AU. Identity Reveal. Ladynoir/Adrienette.
> 
> Adrien does everything in his power to be there for Marinette on the brink of an unexpected, brand new life experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This one... was a little tricky to write. My desire was to maintain a compassionate and properly neutral point of view toward unplanned pregnancies, because the last thing I want to do is offend anyone. I hope I succeeded in my wish, and I hope you enjoy this rather different type of story. My muses sure surprise me sometimes.
> 
> Important: There are medical terms in this story. I've carefully decided to bump this fic up to M, not only because of the occasional language in the first one-shot, but also due to the concepts in this one.
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

An exact month had passed from the day that Marinette had been unceremoniously dumped. She chose that day to throw away her calendar.

\----

The first couple of instances when she got sick before breakfast, she naturally assumed she was becoming ill. She stayed out of her parents’ way and mostly laid around in bed with a hot wet towel over her forehead while Tikki comforted her. However, when she realized she wasn’t showing any other symptoms that indicated sickness besides the obvious one, she decided that some latent reaction to the breakup was now manifesting itself into physical pain.

Which annoyed her, because at this point she was acutely aware that she didn’t love Luka; at least not anymore. He’d managed to make a clean escape a week after her eighteenth birthday, but not before the two of them had had _one_ intimate encounter.

The unsettling connection between their sole stolen moment of physical intimacy and his sudden leave having been merely seven days apart was not lost on Marinette. So, no, she did not have any affectionate thoughts or feelings left behind from that relationship. Or for that jerk of a guy, for that matter.

And yet here she was, vomiting.

\----

Two weeks into this daily morning torture, however, and she began to have suspicions. Very, very frightening ones.

A calculated week of wait, a mortifying lone trip to the pharmacy, and three (not one, not two, but _three)_ little blue-stick-tests later, and her worst fears were confirmed.

She softly fell to her knees on her apartment’s bathroom floor, holding the third stick up so that her kwami could see, yet again, the tiny little plus sign.

Her eyes were frozen on the wall in front of her.

“Tikki…” her voice trailed off desperately.

The kwami, for once, did not know what to say.

\----

Her parents had a million things to say.

Thankfully, they were all supportive, gentle things.

After everyone had partaken in a family embrace and a shared emotional breakdown, Papa, while wiping away his daughter’s tears, offered to arrange a doctor’s appointment. Maman offered to arrange a therapy appointment. They both offered their unconditional help no matter what decision their daughter was going to make.

Marinette spent the evening trying to get a hold of Alya, who was probably on a date with Nino or had lost her phone charger again. Regardless, the girl did not pick up.

 

There was no getting around it - Marinette was reeling from shock. She and Luka had fooled around the night of her eighteenth birthday, and they hadn’t thought to use protection due to the fact that they were merely _fooling around,_ but nothing changed the facts now.

There were so many ethical things to worry about. For example, taking Luka’s opinion of the matter into consideration before she could even try to think of a decision. _Informing_ Luka about all this so that he could form an opinion in the first place. And while she was at it, perhaps she should form an idea of what on earth _her_ opinion was.

She didn’t know.

And, she decided, she wouldn’t know until she gained his opinion.

And so, with a hollow feeling in her throat, she put on her cardigan and took the long and uneasy walk to Luka’s home.

\----

Marinette carefully crawled back into her bed.

She was completely drained.

Her ex’s words bounced around the walls of her head in echoes as she pulled the edge of the blanket close to herself.

_“I- I don’t understand, what do you mean…?”_

_“Marinette, I’m not gonna involve myself in any of this. Do you understand?”_

_“Listen, you’ll figure it out. This is your business now.”_

_“I honestly don’t care. Do whatever you think is right. It’s your situation. Not mine.”_

_“I’m moving soon anyway. To live with relatives in England.”_

_“Good luck, okay? Just… don’t involve me at all. Best of luck, alright?”_

\----

She awoke in a cold sweat around two in the morning. She got out of bed. She paced. She went back to bed. She fall back asleep.

Four rolled around, and some semblance of a dream startled her awake again. She got back up. She used the bathroom. She returned to her room. She checked her text messages - nothing from Alya yet.

It was then, as she slowly lowered her phone down, that a maddening sense of complete directionlessness kicked in, and next thing she knew, she was waking up Tikki.

“I need to transform.”

“Wh-...what? Right now?”

“Tikki. Please.” Marinette had never looked more hellbent on an impulse in her life. “I. Need. To. Transform.”

\----

Work had been particularly grueling this past week, and there was another long week ahead. Modeling was never a forgiving job, but lately the photographers, the agents, the secretary, and his own father had been cruelly dismissive to him whenever he wasn’t needed.

It didn’t help that it was four-thirty in the morning and Adrien still couldn’t sleep.

He’d tossed and turned for actual hours.

Finally, hissing in frustration, he rolled out of bed, trudged toward the opposite wall, and flicked the switch on.

Plagg, eyes immediately squinting at the sudden intrusive overhead light, let out a huff of indignation. “For the love of cheese, _what_ are you doing.”

“I don’t know.” Adrien’s eyebrows were furrowed hopelessly. “I just… I want to quit my modeling career.”

He threw his hands up above his head and then let them fall into his hair, gripping at thick fistfuls before releasing and dropping them down to his sides again.

“Plagg, I’m serious this time. I think I really need to quit this job and find a regular one.”

The kwami sighed.

“I hear you loud and clear buddy, but it’s an ungodly hour of the night, and you’ve said all this _before,_  and-”

_“I’m serious this time.”_

“So, what, you’re gonna quit right this very second? Just gonna… march into your father’s room, wake him up, and throw in the towel? My advice is go back to bed and have this crisis after you’ve had a full night of sl-”

Suddenly Plagg stopped and shot up from his perch.

His demeanor changed to one of widened eyes and parted lips.

Adrien took an immediate step towards him. “Plagg? What’s wrong?”

The kwami turned to look at his concerned human friend, his wild expression unchanging, his little ears twitching.

“Adrien…” he said finally, slowly, uncharacteristically. “Ladybug has sent you a message. You, uh…”

The little creature paused, fully taking in the young man’s own wide eyes, and then completed his own statement in disbelief.

“...Need to transform.”

\----

Marinette, masked as Ladybug in her own bedroom, was going crazy.

She replayed her voice message on the built-in communication system in her yo-yo for what felt like the hundredth time. By now, she had it memorized. Every shaky syllable, every pause.

 _“Chat Noir…”_ She closed her eyes, listening to herself again. _“I… I’m sorry if… if this is bad timing, but… this is an emergency. A… a personal one. When you get this message, please… please…”_  Here was where her voice broke. _“Please meet me at our usual patrol meet-up spot at five.”_ She then barely whispered, _“...Please.”_

Marinette opened her eyes and closed the communication system. It was nearly five in the morning now.

Feeling like she was having an out-of-body experience, she opened the terrace door to the balcony and took off.

\---

Adrien shivered in his catsuit on the appointed roof he’d been asked to stand on.

His throat was dry. Too dry.

His Lady was having an emergency, a _personal_ one, and she was nowhere in sight.

He’d been standing here for quite some time now, and the sun was just beginning to rise over the Parisian horizon. He was worried, and the more the minutes dragged on, the more he worried, and the more he worried, the more his heart thudded in his ears, until-

All of a sudden, the all-too-familiar sound of a swinging yo-yo, a feminine grunt, and a landing behind him alerted him to the fact that she was behind him.

And so he turned around to face her.

“M’lady…” Whatever sentence was to follow died on his lips as he took in her expression and position. She looked downright scared. And… small. She was clutching her own arms, and her eyes were wide as saucers. And-

They were misty.

“Ladybug.” He took four immediate strides forward towards her. Any faint ideas of wit or comical relief were utterly out the window. “What’s wrong? What happened to you?”

She was shaking her head bitterly and now her hands were hiding her face and oh no oh no oh no oh no _what happened to her?_

Without even registering it, he was suddenly gripping her shoulders, and he used this position to pull her toward his chest.

Hands still where they were, he ducked his head down beside her ear and whispered, gently but urgently, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

\----

Whether it was the close proximity to Chat Noir that provided her a minuscule bit of comfort or the hysteria of the moment, she didn’t know, but she whispered the truth - _“I’m pregnant”_ \- into her hands, only one time, and refused to whisper it again.

That one whisper was all it took.

“You’re… what?” He breathed. “Are- are you serious?”

She briefly noted two things in the back of her mind in this moment. One was that he did not let go of her, did not pull himself away at arm's length, did not even budge from her ear when he responded. As a matter of fact, after a second, his hold on her tightened. Secondly, in his response, his voice had lowered down an octave.

“Chat.” She could hear how broken her own tone was. “I’m so lost. I... don’t know what to do.”

The gloved hands on her shoulders slowly but firmly found their way around her entire form, and then he hugged her.

She couldn’t take her hands off her face if she tried. He had her completely surrounded.

And so she wept into her gloves, against his chest; and he began soothing her, slowly rubbing his thumbs up and down against her back.

After her sobs subsided and she found herself able to breathe normally again, she pulled away from him, slightly, enough to be able to look up into his face.

She glanced and noticed that his throat bobbed as he looked back down at her.

They were both at a loss for words.

“I…” Chat cut the silence first. “I mean, you…” He looked helpless. “You’re very brave, and- and I… I can’t imagine...”

His arms still around her, their closeness not lost on her, she searched his eyes.

Something within him must have resolved itself all of a sudden, because his shoulders straightened, his expression strengthened, and he completed the rest of his sentence in a new direction. “I’m going to help you.” He nodded, as if to himself, and repeated the statement. “I’m gonna help you. Ladybug, whatever it is you need, whatever at all, tell me, and I will do that.”

Marinette felt so overwhelmed with gratitude that her knees went a bit weak.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No need,” he spoke firmly. “Just tell me what you need.”

“I… I don’t know what I need.”

He released her from his arms then, took a step back, and brought a hand up to his chin to think.

“I understand this is all very personal and against our code, so you don’t have to tell me the father’s name, but... is he supportive? I mean, is he there for you?”

Marinette sighed shakily. “...No. That he is not.”

He frowned _deeply._

“I’m sorry.”

“As a matter of fact,” She let out a harsh laugh, and words spilled out all over the rooftop. “He dumped me a week after the only sexual experience we’d ever had. Which had happened on my birthday. He’s moving to England. He’s leaving me alone so that I can… _deal_ with it. But I don’t know _how_ to deal.”

Chat was quiet, which gave her the sudden urge to keep going. “My parents know, and they’ve suggested all these different clinics, to _take care of it,_  but I don’t know what I believe on the matter of- of-”

She began pacing frantically. “I’m never one to judge any girl for what she does with her own body, but I just don’t think I have it in me, Chat. I don’t think I have it in me. But I also don’t think I have it in me to raise a baby right now. I’m only eighteen; I only recently completed school, and with Paris needing saving _all the time,_  I’m in no condition to raise a child.”

She stopped and turned to look at him in desperation.

“I need you to give me advice.”

Chat hesitated, then opened his mouth.

“I truthfully think,” he offered slowly, “That you should give yourself a week of weighing your options and really, really taking the time to think about it. Yeah, your douchebag of an ex has abandoned you - and trust me, there’s a thousand things I’d like to say about him right now - but at the very least, he’s allowed you the freedom to make your own decision without guilt-tripping you. So please…” He took a single step toward her again. “...Don’t guilt-trip yourself, no matter what your decision turns out to be. And don’t think about him or anyone else or even the city of Paris when making this decision. Think about yourself.”

A thoughtful silence came between them, and Marinette considered his words carefully.

“But can I ask you something?” He interrupted her reverie.

She nodded.

“Would it- would it help at all if I knew your civilian identity? Because at this point-” he waved his hands, as if to ward off any protests, despite the fact that none came. “It’s not just ‘Ladybug’ who’s pregnant, it’s… it’s _you_ too. So if I can help in more ways than one - and I mean this sincerely - I’d have a lot more peace about how you’re doing.”

She was taken aback, once again, at just how much this boy cared for her. A million thoughts raced in her head all at once, but as she looked into his troubled eyes, it was all silenced by the fact that he was offering her his undivided assistance, and it was assistance she couldn’t afford to give up under these circumstances.

Hawk Moth be damned.

Without so much as a warning, she touched her earring. “Tikki, spots off.”

\----

With wide, unbelieving eyes, and with no time to mentally prepare, Chat watched as his partner, his Lady, vanished and in her place stood his old classmate and friend.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Plagg…” His voice came out in a rasp. “Claws... in.”

\----

And there they stood, eyes wide, and only a few feet away from each other.

The world had either stopped spinning altogether, or it was spinning three times as fast as before.

“I need to sit down.” Adrien slowly lowered himself to the floor.

“I need to throw up.” Marinette took in a deep breath, but what had threatened to rise up her throat went back down. She shot him an extremely embarrassed look. “S-sorry. False alarm. Um. Pregnancy sickness.”

Bewildered, Adrien just slowly shook his head. “I… I…”

Somewhere in the coherent corner of her mind, the place where eloquent thought still worked, Marinette tried to figure out how in the world they’d get off this roof.

A few seconds into _that_ panic-riddled problem, and she decided that that was a thing to worry about later.

“Luka dumped you?” Adrien blurted, eyes bulging. He looked like a fish out of water. “I had no idea.... M- _Marinette_ … I’m so _sorry…”_

Everything came crashing down all at once.

 _Adrien_ had been her partner all these years. _Adrien_ had just held her close and comforted her. _Adrien_ … loved her?

Marinette felt herself sinking down onto the surface of the rooftop as well.

She sat and ran her hand across her sweat-scattered forehead.

Too nervous to maintain proper eye contact.

He sat and faced her, hands clasped in front of his mouth.

Too shocked to look away.

Then,

_Finally,_

He spoke first.

“I think my kwami has enough strength to let me transform again so I can take you home.” He revealed the little creature’s hiding place in his pocket. Another cold wave of reality washed over Marinette as she watched him gesture to his kwami. “Plagg? Can you…?”

“I got you, kid.”

“Thanks. Claws out.”

And now Chat Noir was standing there. As if Adrien had not ever existed on this rooftop.

“May I?” He outstretched his arms.

Marinette swallowed thickly, then nodded.

“Okay.” He bent down, scooped her up, held her close to himself, and shook off the ridiculous levels of déjà vu he experienced before leaping off the roof.

\----

Adrien sat on Marinette’s bed while she went to use the bathroom. During his wait, he checked his schedule on his phone to ensure that he had no early morning photoshoots he hadn’t heard of.

Marinette returned up to her bedroom and quietly took her place beside him on the bed.

Adrien spoke. “We have a lot to talk about.”

She looked over at him with what seemed like many questions in her expression.

“But first things first.” He frowned solemnly. “I want to apologize. I know I haven’t been a good friend the past couple of years to you, Marinette. I’ve been so busy with work, and finishing up school, but none of these are good excuses. You’ve had your heart broken, and where have I been? Modeling, doing stupid unimportant things. I’ve neglected our friendship.”

He sighed.

“I’m so sorry.”

Marinette softly touched his hand, and he looked down, then back at her.

“It’s truly not your fault, Adrien.” She blinked apologetically. “Truth be told, I’m the one that neglected the friendship. I’ve avoided you these past two years whenever I could help it. And I intentionally did that. So it’s my fault that things are awkward between us now, not yours.”

“But… why?” He placed his other hand overtop hers. He neither squeezed nor held it, he simply rested it there. “I’ve always been grateful for our friendship. Even if I couldn’t always be there, I truly wanted to be whenever I could.” He tilted his head to the side sadly, reminiscent of an innocent child who couldn’t understand. “What did I do?”

Her eyes welled up with tears. “You did nothing.”

As one drop trickled down her cheek, Adrien lifted his hand to wipe it away.

She sighed very heavily. It was time to come clean.

“I was in love with you, Adrien.”

An audible gasp escaped his mouth.

She continued. “I thought it couldn’t work out for us, well, I mean, I _knew_ it couldn’t; and so I gave up on pining after you and took a shot at Luka. Which… was a sucky life choice.”

Somewhere in the room, her clock ticked.

“The insanity of it all is,” she paused, running her tongue over her dry lips. “...While I did technically avoid you, I still spent time with you nearly everyday as your partner.”

“Which…” Adrien’s voice cracked twice in one word, but he still leaned forward to continue. “...is where the ‘we have a lot to talk about’ statement comes in to play. I… I’m really confused about a lot of my emotions at the moment, but there’s one thing that hasn’t faltered.” He squared his shoulders and looked directly at her, his green eyes deep and serious. “I’m still the same Chat Noir as ever, Marinette. I just… have a face and a name attached to the Ladybug mask now. And now that I know you loved me at one point as well, well… at least one side of me, d-do you think… that there’s possibly… a chance…?”

Marinette’s face twisted in pure pain and agony.

“I’m so sorry Ch- Adrien. But... I’m _pregnant_ right now, and I need _time._  Lots of time. To process. To heal. To figure out what I’m going to do with this _thing_ that’s happening. I can’t think about romance right now. I’m… I’m truly so sorr-”

He pulled her into a hug that surprised the daylights out of her. “Don’t,” he whispered quietly. “Don’t apologize for that. I understand. I’ll always understand. I’m so sorry for only thinking of myself and being selfish. I’m just happy to have you back in my life. And to _know_ you.”

And just as quickly as he’d pulled her in, he let her go.

“I’m still going to help you.” He spoke resolutely. “I can talk to Master Fu and see if there’s a way my kwami can power up to purify Akumas in your stead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I’ll help you with anything. If you need to have your doctor’s appointments in secrecy, I can arrange that, and pay for it.”

“No, no-”

“I insist!” He thought for a moment, then brightened. “Hey, now that we know each other for who we are, we can just… hang out, if you’d like. Like friends.”

“I _would_ like that.” Marinette tucked a stray hair behind her ear and gave him a small smile. “Very much.”

Encouraged, he smiled back at her. “We can start over. Like, totally over.”

To make it a point, he extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Adrien. Also known as Chat Noir.”

To his great joy, her smile widened, and she rolled her eyes slightly, then took his hand and shook it. “Hi, I’m Marinette; also known as Ladybug.”

“Yes, you are.” He squeezed her hand pointedly before letting go.

Both breathed a sigh of relief and release. Their friendship, although completely bizarre and unlike anything the world had ever seen before, wasn’t over.

In many ways, it had reached a brand new beginning.

\----

Alya finally called Marinette back later on that day, apologizing profusely for going to bed early and waking up late. As soon as Marinette admitted her news, Alya firmly said, “Be right there.”

Sure enough, she arrived with hugs and encouragement and comfort and validation.

Marinette ping-ponged the idea of putting the baby up for adoption, and Alya took a long look into the foster care system in France.

Their afternoon together was exactly what Marinette needed: her best girl friend cried with her, held her, researched the options with her, and even managed to make her laugh.

For multiple reasons, she withheld the fact that Adrien was now also her friend from Alya. She couldn’t explain the Ladybug and Chat Noir connection to her; nor did she want Alya to get her hopes up about the idea of a romantic relationship.

And as Marinette waved goodbye to Alya behind the door of the bakery at the end of their hang-out, she internally reminded herself just exactly why a relationship with him wouldn’t be good.

1\. She’d spent all these years getting over him. It would make no sense to live her life mentally and emotionally codependent on him _again._

2\. She had very recent scars from a very recent relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to him to put him through her baggage. Especially since it would technically be considered a rebound if she did.

3. _She was pregnant. **By**_ **_another guy_** **.** Not that he had any sort of claims at all on the baby, but the fact remained.

\----

“Has it hit you that there’s a life growing inside me?” Marinette asked into the receiver of her cell phone.

“Of course,” Adrien’s voice rumbled back. She could hear him doing… something in the background. “Plagg, get _off_ that. Sorry. Yes, it’s definitely hit me.”

“What are you up to?”

He sighed. “Typing. Looking up as much information about the earliest stage of pregnancy as I can.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

Then,

“Oh, Marinette, by the way, how many weeks do you think it has been?”

“Well, I know for a fact now that the actual situation has been going on for a month aaaand... three weeks, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah! That’s what I needed to know. So you’re on month two, getting close to month three.”

“Getting close to month three,” she repeated. _Oh._ That... was alarming. “When you put it that way, this pregnancy’s flying by.”

“Are your hands and feet swelling?” His question put a halt to some of her more panicky thoughts.

“Um…” Marinette pulled her phone away from her ear and glanced down at both of her wrists. Then down at her ankles. “...No. I mean, I can’t tell.”

“Do you have heartburn? Indigestion?”

“Adrien, that’s… gross.”

“It’s science, m’lady. Not gross at all. Constipation?”

 _“Adrien."_ What had her life become? “I’ll pass on that question.”

“How about… um… your chest?”

She balked. “What _about_ my chest?”

“Is it… I mean… it says here on this website that the breasts should become heavier, and-”

“Oh my _word._  Adrien. Stop asking me medical questions.”

“Fair enough.” More typing was heard. “Marinette, it’s been a week now.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know.”

“I’m not rushing you at all, I promise, but I was wondering if you have even an inkling of an idea about what you might want to do?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to be able to help you with your next step,” he spoke sincerely. Keys clacked in the background rapidly. “I have multiple… different types of doctors who I can set you up with, depending on... what you’re going to do.”

“I’m not going to get rid of the- the fetus.”

There was a momentary silence on the other end.

“Really?” He whispered.

Despite just having uttered her decision out loud, the uncertainty of the future made Marinette hesitate. But only for a moment.

“Really,” she whispered in return, clutching the phone.

He exhaled. Out of relief or out of nerves, she wasn’t sure.

“Okay then.” She could tell he was saying his next words carefully, almost as if he’d rehearsed them. “Are you giving the.. the baby up for adoption, or…?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She could practically picture him nodding to himself. “Okay.”

More typing.

“Uhhh… French adoption? Or international?”

Marinette hadn’t considered this. “Well. I don’t know.”

“You have time.” He sounded calm now. Less worried. “Now that you know what you want, you have quite some time to figure out all the logistics.”

“You’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?” He laughed, and once again it sent a shock down Marinette’s spine that this boy was Chat Noir.

Speaking of which...

“How are the patrols and Akuma attacks these days?”

“Hm. Manageable.” He was typing once more. “Hey, so I found an obstetrician/gynecologist. His name is Dr. Blanchette.”

“I don’t really want a male doctor,” Marinette admitted apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“No! No worries! Um… we have Doctor… Jones?”

“Sounds American.”

“That it does.”

“Skip.”

“Okay, okay.” Adrien laughed. “How about Dr. Laurent? She’s a lady. And she’s very reputable in the French medical world, apparently.”

“Then I’ll take her.” Marinette felt amazed at just how much help she was receiving from her partner and old classmate. “Adrien, I really can’t thank you enough for all this treatment. You deserve the world.”

“I already have it,” he said cheerfully. “I’ve got you for a best friend, after all.”

Her heart melted. Her brain sternly reminded her not to get any wrong ideas. But her stupid heart melted nonetheless.

“Hey, I’ll call you back. I have to set up your appointment with this Laurent lady.”

“Okay, Adrien.” Marinette sat back in her seat, a hint of relief creeping its way into her heart. “Thank you, thank you, a _million times_ thank you.”

“For you? Anything, Marinette.”

\----

She was a bundle of nerves.

Papa had closed shop for the day, Adrien was making small talk with Maman in the kitchen, and it seemed like everything was happening at the speed of light.

“I am a bundle of nerves,” she announced.

“It’s all going to be fine,” Papa placed his heavy hands comfortingly on her shoulders from behind. “Remember that you’re our lucky girl. Luck will find its way to you.” He looked over at his wife. “Do you have the family’s medical history?”

“Right here,” Maman patted her purse.

Adrien looked thoughtful. “Medical history? If you don’t mind my asking, what’s that for, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng?”

“Not at all, Adrien.” Maman smiled gently at him. “You see,” she shifted her glance up at her husband, then over to her daughter, then back at the boy. “When Tom and I were trying to conceive, a long time ago, we had… some trouble.”

She paused here, in case Adrien wanted to say anything. He just silently looked at her.

She continued. “Unfortunately, we struggled with two miscarriages.”

Adrien gasped, his eyes instantly shifting to a pained expression for her. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was hard.” She nodded. “But our third try around was the lucky charm we were waiting and hoping for. Our sweet Marinette was as healthy as could be. That’s why she’s our lucky girl.” She smiled deeply.

“That’s also why we shouldn’t fret over what could happen.” Papa reiterated. “It’s all going to be fine. But that’s why we are bringing the medical history papers, Adrien; it’s just a precautionary thing. Just in case.”

 _Just in case._ Marinette looked down at her hands.

“We’re… I’m sorry, but, we’re going to be late.” Adrien looked down at his phone. “My driver is waiting outside for us.”

“Perfect!” Maman rushed to put an encouraging arm around her daughter and walk with her. “Let’s have this appointment.”

\----

Of _course_ an Akuma attack had to happen across town. Of _course_ it had to occur during the beginning of the appointment.

Adrien cursed his bad luck.

Akuma attacks truly were manageable nowadays, simply due to the fact that they were few and far in between. Hawk Moth had realized by now that Ladybug had disappeared, and he was cutting back on his attempts to gain her Miraculous. That didn’t stop him from trying to get Chat’s on occasion, however.

He’d wanted to be there, by his Lady’s side. Of course, the doctor had merely been asking her questions at the start; but if he didn’t take care of this Akuma fast, then he’d miss the entire appointment.

“CHAT NOIR!” The akumatized villain let out a shrill laugh. “COME AND CATCH ME IF YOU CAAAAN!”

He sighed.

_Great._

\----

“Sorry!” He burst back into the medical room breathlessly. “I really, _really_ had to go to the bathroom.” He looked around the room at everyone. “What did I miss?”

Dr. Laurent looked bemused, at best. “Sit down.”

Adrien swiftly and obediently did as he was told, taking his place beside Mr. Dupain-Cheng. He tried to catch Marinette’s eyes, but she was looking attentively at the doctor.

“As I was saying,” the older woman pushed her spectacles up slightly. “Just to recap: you’re at nine weeks, which means that the embryo growing within you is actually no longer an embryo, but a fetus. Its organs are there, and are now growing and developing. As you said earlier,” she scanned her clipboard momentarily, “Your morning sickness hasn’t let up, but it’s good that you are still maintaining a healthy appetite. A lot of pregnant women at this stage actually lose their appetite, and lose a slight bit of weight, so it’s very, very good that you’re gaining rather than losing. You’re not dehydrated, which is excellent...” She put her clipboard down. “And since we’ve already taken your blood test, there’s nothing more to do now than have your ultrasound. At this stage it should be done transvaginally, through insertion. Are you comfortable with that, considering your company?”

“Um,” the word came out of Marinette in a squeak. “Y-yeah… just… can I be covered?” Her eyes darted toward Adrien and her father.

“Of course.” Dr. Laurent nodded.

Once the proper measures were taken to ensure Marinette’s modesty, the doctor stood at the foot of the medical bed with a probe in her gloved hands.

Adrien shuddered, trying to imagine what his partner was going through. Was she scared? Was she ready for this?

“Maman, I want to hold your hand.” Marinette suddenly said, and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng took up the opportunity instantly.

Adrien turned his attention to the screen on the opposite wall and _stubbornly_ kept his eyes on it.

Nothing could be heard for several moments except for Marinette’s steadying breaths.

Then,

There were sound waves.

Adrien squinted at the screen, his lips in a parted O shape. He couldn’t identify any signal in the black and white jumbled picture that there was life. He squinted harder and leaned forward, his hands in fists.

His heart pounded in his chest like a drum that matched the sound waves.

“Ahh, yes.” Dr. Laurent said calmly. “Hear that little constant tap? There’s your fetus’s healthy heartbeat.”

Everyone else in the room deflated in relief.

“A-and the baby?” Marinette’s voice sounded extremely high-pitched to Adrien’s ears, but he trained his eyes to the screen. He didn’t want to invade what little privacy she had at the moment.

 _So strange,_ some backwards thought flipped up and down and upside down in the recesses of his mind. _She’s Ladybug. She’s right there._ He physically shook his head to dispel the rather stupid interruption.

_Not now, you stupid Chat. Focus. Fo-_

“Right there.” The doctor replied. “The gray bean-shaped figure towards the top. Centered.”

_Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap._

“Oh my God.” Adrien realized he’d spoken after it had already happened. “It’s right there.”

_It’s right there._

Somewhere, in the distance, he registered that Marinette’s parents were hugging and smiling, and the doctor was talking again, to them or to Marinette or both, but it was all in slow motion, and in octaves too low to understand or interpret.

_It’s right there._

_It’s right there._

_It’s right there._

_My Lady… it’s right there._

_A person… it’s… right… there._

The humanity of it all was not lost on him. In fact, it was all he could focus on. Life. Pure, unadulterated life was sitting, waiting, _beating_ inside his best friend.

His eyes never wanted to tear away from the screen. From that lima bean-shaped life.

Until a vibration in his pocket jerked him.

The doctor sighed.

“I’m so sorry,” Adrien said sheepishly, irritated by whoever might be calling.

But then he pulled the phone out and checked Caller ID.

Father.

“I’ve… got to take this one. I’ll just be outside.”

He stood up, opened the door, and backed out.

In the hallway, he answered. “Hello, Father?”

“Adrien.” Gabriel Agreste’s voice came out low, stiff, and cold. “Where have you been.”

“I-”

“You’re late for a shoot. It was supposed to be half an hour ago. Nathalie has tried reaching you. You ignored. Your driver’s navigational system has tracked you down at a women’s clinic. Why.”

“I had my phone on vibrate; I’m so sorry Father. I didn’t know about the shoot, truthfully I didn’t. But- but one of my friends is pregnant, and I wanted to help her, and I-”

“So you have chosen now to associate yourself with girls who have no sense of self-control or dignity. I see. You’ve disgraced me, Adrien.”

Something very strange within him snapped.

“Father, I quit.”

A long, thick pause was held. Then Gabriel spoke again.

“If that is what you wish, then you’re going to be on your own. You’re eighteen years of age. You should be more than capable of finding yourself a job and a home, considering how capable you are of biting the hand that feeds you.” Another pause. “I’ll alert Nathalie to pack your things and leave them outside the front for you. If you don’t come for them by tomorrow morning, the trash collectors can pick them up.”

_Click._

Adrien lowered his phone and leaned against a wall, unable to trust himself to hold himself up.

His mind swam with anger, with frustration, with hurt, with confusion.

The door across from him opened, and out walked Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, who were chattering excitedly to each other. Marinette followed, and she stopped when she saw him.

Without even a moment’s hesitation, her expression changed to one of worry.

 _“What’s wrong?”_ she mouthed.

He shook his head slightly, then straightened and smiled at her. “Congratulations. For the healthy heartbeat.”

“Thank you,” she smiled back, but her eyes remained questioning.

“Unfortunately my… my driver is no longer at our service for the day, so let me call a taxi.” Adrien kept his smile on his face, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. He started clicking on his phone.

“Okay, no worries.” Marinette rubbed her arm and reluctantly turned her attention to her parents.

\----

It wasn’t until they’d arrived back to the Dupain-Cheng abode, and Adrien and Marinette were alone up in her bedroom, that he shared what had happened.

 _“What?”_ Marinette couldn’t believe her ears. “So he just... gave up on you? Just like that?”

Adrien winced. “Yeah.”

She stared at him hopelessly.

“I’m… I don’t know what to say. I’m _so sorry_ Adrien.”

He gave her a rueful little smile. “Look at us. Pregnant. Disowned. We certainly have our problems, don’t we Ladybug?”

“That we do, Chaton.” Marinette sighed, reaching a hand up to scratch the hair on the side of his head for a moment. “That we do.”

He leaned his head into her touch.

When she didn’t stop, or break eye contact, he lifted his hand to cover hers in his hair.

Adrien looked down.

“So…” Marinette took a deep breath. “Where will you live?”

He shrugged helplessly, eyes darting to hers. “I don’t know.”

“You could, um, stay here.” She raised her eyebrows in hope.

His eyes widened. “No, I couldn’t impose on your parents like that-”

“Nonsense.” Marinette crossed her arms. “They love you.”

He shot her a hopeful look of his own. “I… couldn’t possibly impose on you either.”

“And why not?” Marinette leaned forward. “After all, I love you too.”

Her words nearly had him experiencing a confliction over whether his father’s abandonment was really such a horrible thing. _Nearly._

She was waiting, though, and he jumped to salvage the moment with a reply.

“I-I love you- as- as… well.” He cleared his throat. “And… thank you. Thank you so much.”

“For you?” She echoed him warmly, and his stomach somersaulted. “Anything, Adrien.”

They were surely on the path to a brand new beginning, indeed.

\----


	7. Meant To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited sequel/finale to my story "Reality Check", which you can find in my list of works.
> 
> Again, for emphasis: This is a continuation and ending to "Reality Check", so PLEASE feel free to read that first in order for this epilogue to make sense!
> 
> TV Show Co-Stars AU. Adrienette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This was originally meant to be the last Vignette, but I've included an eighth one just for fun! See you there!

_AgresteMail_

_Sunday_

_From:_ **_gabrielagreste_ **

_To:_ **_adrienagreste, marinettedupaincheng, chloebourgeois, ninolahiffe, maxkante, sabrinaraincomprix_ **

_To my voice acting team,_

_Sublime work on the season finale, everyone. Our goal for the origins episode, which airs in three weeks, is to surpass the pilot episode’s viewership ratings status. The hiatus for “The Miraculous Tales Of Ladybug And Cat Noir” has begun for you all, so there will be no more 4 AM briefings in the conference room until further notice. “Miraculous And Beyond” will continue to be filmed between the hours of 12 and 3 on weekdays, so contractually, you are obligated to be outside of your apartments and in the lounging areas of Agreste Productions during those hours in order to give the camera crew something to film. Do remember that while this is a resting period for the six of you, every other department will continue to be hard at work Mondays through Fridays from 9 to 5; so do not, under any circumstances, interrupt or distract or fraternize with any of the employees outside of your specific department. Enjoy your vacation._

_-Gabriel Agreste_

\----

Adrien awoke by natural habit around three-thirty on Monday morning. He rolled over in his bed, saw the time on the alarm clock, and smiled sleepily.

 _“Hiatus,”_ he mumbled at it in triumphant satisfaction, then flipped back over to the side of the bed facing the wall to return to his slumber.

However, he’d forgotten to shut off the alarm before it went off, and he was reawakened, rattled by its obtrusive, deafening noise, fifteen short minutes later.

“Agh!” He reached out blindly to turn off the thing, slamming his hand down on the bedside desk several times, before he reached too far and fell out of the bed.

Discombobulated, he looked around his dark studio apartment for a moment, before glaring up at the alarm clock that was _still_ going off.

He stood up and turned it off.

Sighing, now fully wide-awake, he considered his options: he could _try_ to get cozy again in his bed and fall back asleep, despite the fact that he knew it would be in vain; or, he could just sadly accept that he was going to spend his first early morning of vacation already up.

It looked like his dumb alarm clock had decided his fate for him.

Sighing again, he flicked on the light switch and began making his bed.

He stopped when his phone gave off a _ping!_ on the desk, and he reached over and picked it up curiously.

A happy smile quickly spread across his face as he read the text message on the screen.

 **Marinette Dupain-Cheng:  ** **I must be the only person in our department who’s actually awake right now. Forgot to destroy my alarm last night, and it came back to bite me. Welp, I’m just gonna try to write a new fanfic on my laptop until you wake up. Haha hope you’re enjoying your sleep. Just thought I’d text you on the extremely off chance that you might be in the same boat as me? But if not, sleep tight, and when you wake up and read this, good morning! Does this count as a good morning text? I don’t know. I’m stupid. Ignore me. Haha bye**

He sent out a response as rapidly as he could.

 **Adrien Agreste:  ** **We are indeed in the same boat. I hate this boat. This boat is the worst. Call it the S.S. KillJoy. Right beside everyone else’s better boat, the S.S. Dreamland. ;)**

She responded in less than a minute, much to his delight.

 **Marinette Dupain-Cheng:  ** **Ha! Two boats, polar opposite names, and side by side? ...You better believe I SHIP it. ;)**

He grinned.

 **Adrien Agreste:  ** **Oh, that was CLEVER. Major props. /round of applause/ :) So you’re gonna be writing to waste away the morning, huh?**

 **Marinette Dupain-Cheng:  ** **You betcha! Here’s hoping it won’t drag.**

 **Adrien Agreste:  ** **...You wanna hang out together while you write? I won’t interrupt your creative process, I promise, but if we’re both awake at this hour, might as well spend it together, right? :) If you want to!**

 **Marinette Dupain-Cheng:  ** **Aw sure :) I’ll be over in a few.**

Adrien’s eyes widened. He looked up from his phone and circled around, taking in the full sight of his messy apartment. He glanced back down at his phone and typed a quick confirmation.

 **Adrien Agreste:  ** **Okay! See you soon! :)**

He went to work immediately. He picked up knick-knacks off the floor, he grabbed a t-shirt off the television set - why had he flung it on there in the first place? - and dumped it back into his drawers, he lifted up and rearranged the fallen books on his shelf, he put away dishes in his kitchen, he jumped over a sleeping Plagg, he finished making his bed, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he panicked, he squirmed out of his clothes, and he _threw_ on a button-up shirt and jeans, right before hearing knocking on his front door.

He sighed in relief as he hurriedly scanned the apartment one final time, walked over to the front of his home, buttoned his last button, then opened the door.

Marinette stood there with a laptop bag slung over her shoulder.

He smiled. “...Hi.”

She blushed and smiled back. “Hi.”

He moved to the side so that she could walk in. “Uh, so, welcome to my place!”

She continued to smile as she entered, looking around at everything, and he shut the door behind them.

“It’s just like my apartment, only everything’s mirrored,” she remarked.

“Yeah, I noticed that when I was in your apartment last Thursday,” Adrien replied, and they both reddened considerably and smiled down at the ground.

“...So,” Marinette turned away from him, walking over to the small kitchen table. “Can I use this as my writing station?”

“Oh, yeah!” Adrien nodded, despite the fact that she had her back to him. “What would you like to eat? For… writing fuel?”

She turned and shot him a grateful look. “Anything you’re eating, I’ll eat.”

“Cereal it is,” Adrien laughed. “I don’t have the best breakfast selection; sorry about that.”

“As long as you have milk.” Marinette laughed too, taking her laptop out of its bag.

They both busied themselves with their tasks; Adrien fixing together two bowls for both of them, and Marinette logging into her account and pulling up the _‘New Works’_ page.

He brought over their bowls and placed them down onto the table and pulled up a second chair, sitting beside her.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and he replied with a quiet, “Of course.”

She began to write, and he pulled out his phone to surf the internet.

They sat in silence for about twenty minutes, casting each other little smiles when they caught each other looking. They ate their cereal at random intervals.

Finally, Marinette exhaled and pushed her laptop away, turning to face him.

“Adrien. We are so _awkward.”_

Adrien laughed out of pure, albeit nervous, relief.

“Yeah. I agree.”

She breathed out a relieved laugh of her own. “Do you want to talk?”

He nodded emphatically. _“Yes.”_

“Okay.” She looked down at her lap and giggled. “Um.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “So…”

She snapped her head back up to look at him, and their eyes met.

They blushed again.

“May I kiss you?” Adrien blurted out of nowhere - startling even himself.

Marinette blinked, then burst into a longer, louder fit of giggles. This went on for a moment. “That’s…” she finally tried to speak. “That’s the- the _opposite_ of talking!” Her face was red all over. “We need to… to _talk!”_

Mortified by her reaction, but unable to do anything besides laugh as well, Adrien raised his hands. “Sorry! I- I didn’t mean right away!”

 _“Yes you did!”_ Marinette was clutching her stomach, cackling unabashedly at him. “You _totally_ did!”

Thoroughly embarrassed, Adrien lowered his head to the table and covered it with his arms, only causing her to laugh further to the point where she couldn’t _breathe._

“I’m moving to the planet Jupiter,” he announced, his voice muffled.

Marinette leaned over and threw herself over him, still snickering. “Then take me with you!”

Hyperaware of her proximity, and deciding he had nothing to lose, Adrien took advantage of their position to shift up and pull her down into his lap. He hugged her tightly.

She continued to laugh uncontrollably into his neck for a little bit, until finally, she caught her breath, and all went silent. She didn’t move from her spot, much to his joy, and he didn’t dare try to make her budge either.

After a long hesitation, his hands slowly began rubbing her back, and she relaxed against him.

“Okay,” he murmured finally. “Let’s do that talking thing we wanted to do.”

She sighed, her breath running across his neck, and he pressed his hands down more tightly on pure instinct; an instinct he’d never been aware of until this very moment, right here, right now.

“Okay,” she breathed. “So… I take it we’re a thing, now.”

“A thing,” he repeated thoughtfully. “But... what kind of thing?”

“...I had the same question on the tip of my tongue.”

He leaned back; she pulled away. They sat there, facing each other.

Marinette’s eyes glittered with incredible depth, and he was almost completely mesmerized, but he forced himself to remember that she was staring at him because she was waiting, and he thought of actual words.

“As you’ve probably already noticed, I’m not necessarily the _most_ traditional guy in the world.” He licked his lips, which had suddenly gone dry. “But I do believe that when something ought to be official… well, then it ought to be official.” He gave her a hopeful smile. “So… will you… um, be my… lady?” He cleared his throat. “Lady, of course, meaning _girlfriend,_ but Cat Noir says ‘lady’ all the time when referring to Ladybug, so it was a pun, and I thought that a pun might be-”

She kissed him, hard.

He closed his eyes, inexpressibly happy, and pushed forward, kissing her back with all his might.

 _Thank goodness,_ he internally concluded, _for dumb alarm clocks._

\----

The mall opened at nine.

Adrien and Marinette had sat in his car in the parking lot and waited since eight.

Now, at long last, they were allowed to enter the building.

The only other people who were beginning to walk in and mill about that early were elderly folks and a few more restless couples.

Marinette walked up to a stand-up map of the layout of the mall, and Adrien joined her side.

They studied it for a minute, until Marinette found and pointed to the spot they were searching for. “There.” She looked up at Adrien. “Hot Topic’s right there.”

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

They turned in a new direction and began walking toward the store, and as they ambled, Adrien stared down at Marinette’s hand.

Just as he was about to grab it, she stopped and raised it, and began clapping excitedly. “We’re here!”

He looked up to see the open doors of the store.

He shot her a crooked smile. “Ready to tick off whoever’s working the early morning shift?”

She threw her head back, eyes wide, and groaned at the ceiling. “Oh God, I didn’t think of that. _Great.”_ She looked at him regretfully. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

He chuckled. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They wandered inside and almost immediately heard a professionally chipper voice call from the back, “Welcome to Hot Topic! Our Funko Pop collectible figures are twenty percent off today until Wednesday, and our t-shirts are…” The voice that had been speaking suddenly went mute, and was replaced with nearing footsteps; Adrien and Marinette glanced at each other questioningly, before a familiar face approached the front of the store.

“I _knew_ my eyesight wasn’t going out of whack!” Alya placed her hands on her hips and beamed at them. “Well, well, well; look who came out of the woodworks of Agreste Productions to make an unannounced appearance in public society! What can I do for you guys?”

Adrien did not know Alya too well, but Marinette evidently knew her somewhat, as she stepped forward and grinned back at her.

“The same could be said about _you,_ girl,” she said in a kind voice. “I see you around A.P. all the time! Is this your second job?”

“Uh, first job,” Alya corrected her and laughed. “I’ve been working at this store since I was sixteen. Overtime, it paid off, and I got several nifty little promotions.” She pointed to her nametag proudly. “I’m the manager here now. My internship at A.P. is currently on hold due to Gabriel not being able to find a way to keep me busy now that the show is on hiatus.” She shrugged contentedly. “I’ll reapply there in five or so months. Until then, I’ll just tend to this store’s branch here.”

“That’s awesome!” Adrien piped up, smiling politely at her. “The fact that you’re busy, I mean. I have no idea how I’m gonna spend my time this next half of a year.”

“Agreed,” Marinette chimed in.

“Hmm,” Alya tapped on her chin thoughtfully. “Well, you could always take advantage of your vacation by actually _going_ on a vacation? Like, somewhere exotic and far away?”

“Can’t.” Marinette shook her head. “We’re required by contract to stay each week for the reality show.”

“Oh _yeah,_ that’s right.” Alya sighed. “Man, that really sucks.”

“It does,” The two of them replied in unison.

“Work never ends, huh?” She nodded understandingly. “Hey, I totally get it. But at the very least, whenever you want to, feel free to visit me here! It’ll be good to still see you guys around.”

“Thanks, Alya,” Marinette gave her a big smile. “It’ll be good to see you, too. We’ll miss your face around the workplace. Until you reapply, of course.”

“Of course. Then you _won’t_ miss me anymore.” Alya responded good-naturedly. “I don’t blame you. I’m always frazzled every day I’m there. Running around like a chicken with my head cut off, shrieking at you guys for almost getting fired; the works.”

The three of them laughed out loud together, and Adrien decided to himself that he’d ask Marinette later on about them hanging out with Alya outside of their respective job hours.

“So what are you guys here for this morning?” Alya winked. “Besides visiting your favorite intern, of course.”

Marinette winked back. “Well, _besides_ that, we were gonna look at the Miraculous merchandise.”

The manager gasped. “Really? I would’ve supposed you guys would be sick and tired of your own show, now that you’re on a break.”

 _If only she knew._ Adrien exchanged a look with Marinette, before smiling at Alya and shrugging. “You’d be surprised. We’re actually fans.”

She blinked at them, clearly taken aback, then quickly recovered and grinned widely. “If we’re gonna be honest around here - and honesty _is_ my store’s policy - I guess I’ll come clean. I’m… a super huge fan of the show myself.” She shot them both a bashful look. “I guess I’m not so childish after all, considering _you_ two enjoy it too.”

“Childish is one thing I’d _never_ call anyone who enjoys such a good cartoon.” Marinette raised a fist, and Alya delightedly bumped it with her own. “After all, adults of all ages enjoy superhero _comics_ week after week, and honestly, what’s the difference between them and us?”

“You’re absolutely right,” The other girl nodded enthusiastically. “That’s the _best_ way to put it, Marinette. Well said.” She clasped her hands together and rose up on her toes in excitement. “Well, don’t let me hold you up any longer on your shopping experience! As you can already see, the Miraculous merch is scattered all around the front, and if you’re looking for clothing, there’s a rack of Ladybug dresses in the back; not to mention a plentiful supply of Cat Noir colognes up at the register.” She gestured to them. “So, go for it! Shop! I’ll just be restocking shelves.”

“Thanks, Alya,” Adrien nodded at her, and she beamed and turned away, walking off.

“She’s so _nice,”_ Marinette whispered to him.

“We should totally hang out with her sometime,” Adrien whispered back.

She nodded in solemn agreement. _“Yes.”_

After quite a bit of exploring around, the two of them decided upon the twenty-percent-off Ladybug and Cat Noir collectible figures. They alerted Alya, made their way to the cash register, then both whipped out their wallets. The two shot their eyebrows up at each other, making Alya raise hers as well.

“...Is… this gonna be a throw-down?” She asked humoredly. “Is that what I’m about to witness?”

Adrien, not taking his eyes off Marinette, slowly removed his credit card from his wallet. “Nope.”

In the blink of an eye, Marinette slammed _her_ card down on the table. “...Yep.”

Swiftly, Adrien threw his hand down over hers. He grinned at her. _“Nope.”_

Marinette used her free hand to tickle him in the ribs - catching him so off guard that he let go and cowered in laughter - and she took advantage of the moment to hand her card to Alya.

Gasping, Adrien shot up and exclaimed, _“No!”-_

-Right as Alya smiled mischievously and slid the card across the scanner.

Marinette gleefully turned her head to look up at him, her eyes teasing, her smile victorious. _“...Yep.”_

After a pause, he rolled his eyes, laughed, and nudged her. “Fine, fine. I accept defeat. You win this round, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Oh, I’ll win _every_ round, Agreste,” she said, slowly and surely. “As long as I can help it.”

He raised his eyebrows and grinned at her, enticed. “Oh yeah?”

She took a step closer towards him. _“Yeah.”_

Alya, eyes darting back and forth between the two, slowly extended the bag with their merchandise toward them. “Um, not to interrupt this moment-” she smiled as they tore their expressions away from each other to look at her “-but here are your Funko pop figures.”

Marinette took the bag and offered up a laugh to change the atmosphere. “Thanks so much, Alya. What’s your number, girl? Adrien and I would love to hang out with you sometime, if you’re ever free.”

Alya pulled her phone out from her back pocket. She unlocked it, tapped around, then handed it to her. “Go ahead and jot your contact information down, and I’ll text you tonight or tomorrow.”

Marinette did so, then returned the phone. “Awesome! We’ll hear from you then!”

“Yep!” Alya hid her phone again, right as new customers entered the store. “Thanks so much for stopping in, you guys! This was a treat!”

“Same here!” Adrien gave her a friendly little wave and began walking off. “See you Alya! Thanks for being a total _traitor_ with the credit card!”

The girl threw her head back and laughed. “Hey, anytime.” She waved back. “Sorry, but we girls gotta stick together!”

“That’s _right!”_ Marinette waved at her in return, laughing as well, until the two of them had walked out of the store.

She turned happily to say something to Adrien, but he didn’t give her the chance. He impulsively took her hand in his, and laced their fingers together.

She halted and stared down at their joined hands for a moment, entranced, and then looked up at him with a start, her blue eyes wide and deep and endless.

Thrilled by everything about her reaction, he smiled.

Then, slowly, he turned and began walking, and she fell into step alongside him, and they both quietly beamed as they made their way down the path of the mall.

\----

Midway on the drive back home, Marinette, struck by a thought, reached out and lowered the volume of Adrien’s radio.

“Sorry!” She immediately glanced his way, wondering if she’d overstepped her boundaries. “I just thought of something that I wanted to quickly talk about. I… I didn’t mean to take control of your radio.”

Adrien’s eyes flashed toward her, then back toward the cars in front of him, and he shook his head, once and quick. “Marinette. Don’t ever, ever apologize for turning down the music so we can _talk._ Listening to your thoughts? That’s way better than any song.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, it just about made her world stop spinning, and she momentarily had to remember what she’d thought of in the first place.

“Well… I...” she stopped, then tried not to giggle, but failed. “...You really like listening to my thoughts?”

He smiled at the road ahead. “Yep.”

“So…” she raised her hands to tighten one of her pigtails. “So you prefer my thoughts over _music?”_

“Always,” he nodded firmly.

She tightened her other pigtail, a blush warming her cheeks. _“...Really?”_

She glanced at him again, and was absolutely charmed to see that his face had darkened too.

“Really.”

They stopped at a red light, and Adrien turned to look at her. “So, what’s your thought?”

She didn’t know whether to smile at _him_ or smile at her shoes. “Well… I just… well…” She exhaled, trying to steady herself. “I was just thinking that… well… it’s kind of funny how destiny works.”

“It is.” He nodded in agreement. “But elaborate. What do you mean by that?”

She ran a finger across her lap, raising her shoulders, looking up at him through her lashes shyly. “Well… just… considering the fact that you’re an established voice actor, and you could’ve been costars with just about _any_ talented girl in the world for ‘Miraculous’, it’s pretty wild that I wound up following an instinct and auditioning for the show. Not to mention the fact that I liked it enough to write _fanfiction_ about it, and you read it, and liked it enough to want to _review,_ and… and here we are now. You know?”

The red light turned green, and Adrien turned left, arriving at the Agreste Productions lot.

“Fate is a crazy thing,” he said, his own tone soft and amazed. “I wonder how it all works. The matters of the universe, I mean.”

“Me too.” She pulled the passenger visor down to shade her eyes from the sunlight. “It’s just so _wild.”_

 _“I know..._ It’s like, it was all meant to be. What are the _odds?”_

They both fell into a silence of shared wonderment at this question, each thinking of all the events that had taken place in the past few weeks.

As Adrien slowly headed toward the parking garage, Marinette reached out to turn the radio’s volume back up again.

They both sat back and listened in awe at the perfectly-timed lyrics of the song that had just begun to play on the pop station. The country twang of the singer wasn’t something either of them were particularly familiar with, but the words were what they focused on - and those words struck a very specific chord within their hearts.

 _"Baby lay on back and relax; kick your pretty feet up on my dash; no need to go nowhere fast; let's enjoy right here where we at._  
_Who knows where this road is supposed to lead?_  
_We got nothing but time._  
_As long as you're right here next to me, everything's gonna be alright..._  
_If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be._  
_Baby, just let it be._  
_If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be._  
_Baby, just let it be._  
_So, won't you ride with me, ride with me?_  
_See where this thing goes..._  
_If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be._ _  
Baby, if it's meant to be.”_

\-----


	8. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya jumped away from Nino, cradling her phone closely. “Don’t you dare try to distract me from what actually matters right now. Something’s going on between Ladybug and Chat Noir. I’m telling you. They were super touchy-touchy at the last Akuma attack. And they haven’t been caught having fun outside of their superhero duties since last Christmas when Chat threw that snowball at her! Remember?!" She stuck the phone screen in both boys’ faces. “And would ya look at them now. They’re playing. Openly, and blatantly. Therefore, through logical deductive reasoning, I can only point to the evidence that they’re in love.”
> 
> “Just one math problem,” Nino pleaded with her. “I’m begging you. Just complete one math problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: An AU in which Ladybug and Chat Noir constantly toe the line between friendly and flirty, but haven't quite reached a conclusion just yet. Secret identities are still secret identities, and civilian friendships are strong [in which bonding moments are had at study sessions].
> 
> This might be the end to the Vignettes - unless I dream up new plots - so thank you for stopping by! I hope you enjoyed your stay. :)

With no warning, Chat Noir dropped down beside her on the ledge from where she sat and dangled her legs.

Ladybug immediately swiveled her body to stare at him, startled. _“Chat!”_

He pressed his shoulder to hers in cheerful non-apology. “Parisian sunsets like this are way too beautiful for a lovely lady like you to be watching by yourself.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is that what you say to _all_ the girls after sneaking up on them and spooking them half to death?”

“First of all, you’re the _only_ girl I sneak up on.” He gave her a knowing look. “Second of all, you barely flinched! I did not spook you half to death and you know it.”

She placed a gloved finger to his nose and tapped it twice. “Regardless of all that, what were your plans in the leather suit at this random hour, you mischievous kitty? We haven't had any patrols scheduled for this weekend.”

He grinned. “Do you want the serious answer, or the fun one?”

She winked. “Knowing you, the fun one is probably a lie. And considering what _your_ idea of serious must be… well…” Her voice trailed off, and he began laughing.

“Why must you _wound_ me  _so?”_ He clutched at the left side of his chest. “My heart! It’s  _shattering!”_

Giggling, she took one of his hands in her own.

“Fine, fine. I’ll take both answers. Because I’m curious.”

He brightened and lifted the hand of hers that he was holding to place a quick kiss to the back of it. “Okay. The fun answer is that I was sauntering down the streets, minding my own business, when _Hawkmoth himself_ interrupted my catwalk to challenge me to a duel! A battle! A war between men! Irritated that he threw me off my groove, I defeated him in record time, _obviously,_ then took some selfies with adoring fans, kissed a baby on the head, cut the ribbon for a ship that Mayor Bourgeois named in my honor, and warded off insane women who were crying due to the fact that my heart belongs to _you,_ of course, so I catapulted away with my handy-dandy baton and fate led me to this exact building where you sat.”

His partner made quite a show of applauding. “...Wow. _What_ a story. _How_ are you so brave? And amazing?”

“Ladybug…” He squinted into the distance melodramatically. “...I ask myself the same questions on a daily basis. It’s a mystery, even to me.”

She threw her arm around his shoulder and leaned into him, eyes closed, smile wide. “You’re the biggest goofball I’ve ever encountered. And that’s the understatement of a lifetime. Now give me the serious answer.”

He pressed his hand to the side of her hip and drew her closer to him. “The serious answer’s boring.”

She ducked her head to briefly rest it against his shoulder. “I still want to hear it.”

“Okay.” He deliberated for a moment, before sighing. “I… had nothing better to do, honestly.”

She opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at him. His tone held a note of curiosity as he maintained their locked gaze.

“Your turn.”

She cocked her head. “My turn?”

“I’m not the only one who’s transformed and out in Paris for no real reason right now.”

She nodded. “Good point. Same as you, honestly. I'm bored.”

Something unreadable flickered in his expression.

“Bored.” He echoed the word into a small statement of its own.

She nodded, leaning away coyly. “Right."

He turned toward her head-on; his typical devil-may-care, roguish smile deepening. "Pity that we'd both find ourselves in such a predicament on such a lovely evening. Wouldn't you say, my Lady?"

“I would…” She returned his expression, inch by inch. “So whaddya say we combat this boredom the superpowered way?”

He shot his masked eyebrows up and down at her conspiratorially. “You mean, the way only _we_ can?”

She leaned in to whisper, “Race you one lap around the city. The ground is lava; the rooftops are cushions.”

He whispered back. “This ledge is the finish line?”

“This ledge is the finish line,” she confirmed. “Last one back is a rotten _cat.”_

With that announced, smirking, she whipped out her yo-yo and swung away.

\----

“They’re dating.”

“They’re just partners and friends, Alya.”

“They were _playing tag_ with each other on top of the _buildings,_ Nino. _Look_ at these high-definition pictures I snapped of Ladybug turning around and looking at him! Look at her _eyes!_ That’s literally like the look _you_ give _me_ when we flirt! They are totally _dating!”_

Adrien suppressed a smile as he pretended to stare more intently at his homework.

Nino grabbed his girlfriend’s hand in an attempt to placate her. “Sweetie, maybe, just maybe, you should log out of your blog, put the phone down, and _try_ to complete a math problem.”

Alya jumped away from him, cradling her phone closely. “Don’t you _dare_ try to distract me from what actually matters right now. Something’s going on between Ladybug and Chat Noir. I’m telling you. They were _super_ touchy-touchy at the last Akuma attack. And they haven’t been caught having fun outside of their superhero duties since last _Christmas_ when Chat threw that snowball at her! Remember?!" She stuck the phone screen in both boys’ faces. “And would ya _look_ at them now. They’re _playing._ Openly, and blatantly. Therefore, through logical deductive reasoning, I can only point to the evidence that _they’re in love.”_

“Just one math problem,” Nino pleaded with her. “I’m begging you. Just _one_ math problem.”

“The only math problem I need the answer to right now is how many super-powered children Ladybug will _birth_   after she and Chat Noir start doing the _nasty_ and decide to _multiply.”_

Adrien choked back a severe laugh, which resulted in a strangled noise.

Nino and Alya both turned to look at him.

The door swung open and Marinette burst into Nino’s bedroom. “Sorry I’m late! I was roped into helping my parents at the bakery - you guys know how the Sunday afternoon rush can get - and then halfway to getting here I realized I forgot to grab my _backpack,_ go figure, so I ran back and…” She paused and glanced from one person’s expression to the next, before settling on staring at Alya. “Uh-oh. What happened.”

Nino slapped his hands over his face. _“You had to ask…”_

Alya tossed Marinette her phone, then whirled around, clicked on her computer monitor, and gestured wildly with both arms splayed toward the screensaver. “THIS. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED.”

Marinette blinked slowly. “It’s… just Ladybug and Chat Noir. I don’t... get... what…?”

Adrien sat up in slight concern as Alya started hyperventilating.

Nino scrambled to his feet and grabbed his girlfriend by the shoulders. “Sweetie? Sweetie. Breathe. _Breathe,_ Alya, _breathe._ No no no no no no, _slower…”_

Alya heaved several gasps of air before attempting to talk. “They’re… _hahhh…_ DOING IT…”

Marinette slowly turned to Adrien for an interpretation, and he sighed. “Alya is convinced that Ladybug and Chat Noir are dating. Also she suspects they might be having sex? I’m not sure.”

She glanced down at the phone her best friend had thrown her way. “...I see she updated the Ladyblog with these theories.”

Nino wrapped a firm arm around a sweating, panicky Alya and began walking her to the door, chuckling nervously. “You know what? I’m just gonna fix her a cup of lukewarm water and have her lay down on the living room couch for a little while. You guys... keep up the studying.”

He threw them an appeasing smile and shut the door. Alya’s heavy breathing could be heard down the hallway.

Adrien and Marinette blinked at one another.

“I'm... gonna take a bathroom break,” he decided, and stood.

Marinette nodded immediately at this. “Okay, sounds good. I’m… gonna head downstairs and see if I can help Alya relax.”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”

He hurried out of the room, with Marinette closely behind, and they parted in opposite directions in the hall.

As he opened the door to the bathroom, he could hear Alya shouting from downstairs. “I’m _fine_ now! I’m _calm!_ Stop refilling my cup! Nino- YOU SPILLED WATER ON MY SHIRT.”

A little surprised chuckle was punched out of him, and he momentarily wondered what Ladybug’s friends were like, and if they were anything like his.

In the end, Adrien ultimately decided that they couldn’t be _quite_ like his; Nino and Alya and Marinette were far too unique for their own good.

Despite the fact that he knew between his distracted thoughts of his not-quite-unrequited yet not-quite-resolved crush and the shenanigans of his best friends that he’d never buckle down and properly study like he was supposed to, this conclusion made him smile.


End file.
